yp^NRLF *B 31t I3t mfp'://wwW.^chive.o^ itsmon^m Q. THE ' BRAVO OF VENICE, TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY M, G, LEWIS, What black magician conjures up this fiend ?— What ! do ye tremble ? arc ye all afraid ? Alas ! I blame you not, for ye are mortal, And mortal eyes cannot endure the Devil— , , Avaunt! thou dreadful Minister of Hell ! RiCUARO THE ThIR©. THE SECOND EDITION. LONDON: Priated by D. N. SHURY, Bcrwick-flreet, Soho ; FOR HUGHES, WIGMORE-STRBBT^ CAVENDISH SaUARE} AND SOLD BY ilODSON, STRAND} AND ALL THB BOOKSELLERS, iS05, *■' *i o" * •>*,« *" ^ «> .» * •? TO THE EARL OF MOIRA These pages are inscribed, as a slight mark of that respect for his character and conduct, which [though felt in common with many] is felt more sensibly by none than by His most obediejit, M. G. LEWIS. Inveraray Castle, October 27tb, 1804. A2 808361 . ADVERTISEMENT. I must confess, that in making this trans- lation I have taken some liberties with the original — Every thing that relates to Monal- deschi [a personage who does not exist in the German romance] and the whole of the concluding chapter [with the exception of a very few sentences] have been added by myself. I have also omitted a song, sup- posed to be sung by Rosabella, in the fourth chapter of the third book, the merit of which I could not discover; and several passages which seemed to me too harsh for the taste of English readers, have been either left out entirely, or considerably softened down. However, where the expressions appeared to be either characteristic of the author's style, or of the character by whom they were supposed to be used, I did not think vi ADVERTISEMENT, think myself at liberty to alter them ; I have therefore suffered Parozzi's speech in the third book, about ^\ the devil's grandmo- ther,'' as well as several others, to remain, though I request not to be supposed to have retained them in compliment to my own taste. THE TRANSLATOR. Ui^biKfii CONTENTS. BOOK THE FIRST. Chap. 1. Venice Page 1 Chap. 2. The Banditti 11 Chap. 3- The trial of strength 20 Chap. 4. The Daggers 32 Chap. 5. Solitude 42 Chap. 6. Rosabella^ the Doge's lovely Niece 50 Chap. 7. The Bravo' s Bride 62 Chap. 8. The Conspiracy e^ Chap. 9. Cinthia's dwelling 86 viii CONTENTS. / ' BOOK THE SECOND. Chap. 1. The Birthday Page 102 Chap. 2. The Florentine Stranger .... 1 24 Chap. 3. More confusion 141 Chap. 4. The Violet 150 Chap. 5. The Assassin 170 Chap. 6. The two greatest men in Venice 181 BOOK THE THIRD. Chap. 1. The Lovers - 193 Chap. 2. A dangerous prmnise 206 Chap. 3. The midnight yneeting 227 Chap. 4. The decisive day 239 Chap. 5. The clock strikes <' Fiver\,25l Chap. 6. Apparitions /... 264 Chap, 7 . Conclusion •.••• ««- » 296 "HE BRAVO OF VENICE. Translated from the German BOOK THE FIRST. GHAP. I. Venice, It was evening— Multitudes of light clouds, partially illumined by the moon-beams, overspread the horizon, and through them floated the full moon in tranquil majesty, while her splendour was reflected by every wave of the Adri- atic Sea. All was hushed around; gently was the water rippled by the B night night wind ; gently did the night wind sigh through the Colonnades of Venice. It was midnight - ■ ■ and still sat a stranger, solitary and sad, on the bor- der of the great Canal. Now with a glance he measured the battlements and proud towers of the city ; and now he imZ hk mekncJioly eyes upon the waters with a vacant stare. At length he spoke: — " Wretch that I am, whither shall fgo? Here sit I in Venice, and what would it avail to wander further? — What w411 become of me ! All now ^Itimb^r, ^ve tnysetf ! the Doge rests oA" life couch of down^ the beggar's liekd presses his straw pillow j but for me there is no bed, except the cold damp earth! there is no Gondoleer so ^ttetched, but he knows where to find ^rk bf day,' and shelter by night — ^^ ^ while 3 while /. . . . while /. ... Oh ! dreadful is the destiny of which I am made the sport !'' — He began to examine for the twenti- eth time the pockets of his tattered garments. — " No ! not one paolo by heavens ! — and I hunger almost to death !" — He unsheathed his sword ; he waved it in the moonshine, and sighed, as he marked the glittering of the steel. — " No, no ! my old and true com- panion, thou and I must never part! Mine thou shalt remain, though I starve for it. — Oh ! was not that a golden time, when Valeria gave thee to me, and when as she threw the belt over my shoulder, I kist thee and Valeria ? — She B 2 has 4 has deserted us for another world ; but thou and I will never part in this."— He wiped away a drop which hung upon his eye-lid* — " Psha ! *twas not a tear ! the night wind is sharp and bitter, and makes the eyes water ; but as for tears. . . . Absurd! my weeping-days are over.'^ — And as he spoke, the unfortunate [for such by his discourse and situation he appeared to be] dashed his forehead against the earth, and his lips were al- ready unclosed to curse the hour which gave him being, when he suddenly seem- ed to recojlect himself. He rested his head on his elbow, and sang mourn- fully the burthen of a song, which had often delighted his childhood in the cas- tle of his ancestors. 5 — " Right!" he said to himself^ " Were I to sink under the weight of my destiny, I should be myself no longer." — At that moment he heard a rustling at no great distance. He looked around, and in an adjacent street, which the moon faintly enlightened, he perceived a tall figure wrapt in a cloak, pacing slow- ly backwards and forwards. -p-^^ 'Tis the hand of God, which hath guided him hither^— Yes I—FII — I'll beg ! — ^Better to play the beggar in Venice, than the villain in Naples 5 for the beggar's heart may beat nobly though covered by rags !" — He said, sprang from the ground, and ha3tened towards the adjoining street. Just as he entered it at one end, he per- ceived another person advancing through B 3 the 6 the other, of whose approach the first was no sooner aware, than he hastily- retired into the shadow of a piazza, as anxious to conceal himself. - — ^' What can this mean?'* thought our mendicant. *' Is yon eaves-dropper one of death's unlicensed ministers? Has he received the retaining-fee of some impatient heir, who pants to pos- sess the wealth of the unlucky knave who comes strolling along yonder so careless and unconscious? — Be not so confident, honest friend! Fm at your elbow." — He retired farther into the shade, and silently and slowly drew near the lurker, who stirred not from his place. The stranger had already passed them by, when the concealed villain sprang suddenly upon him, raised his right hand in which a poignard was gleaming, and 7 and before he could give the blow, was felled to the earth by the arm of the men- dicant. The stranger turned hastily towards them ; the Bravo started up, and fled ; the beggar smiled. ♦ — " How now ?** cried the stranger ; " what does all this mean ?"- — — " Oh ! 'tis a mere jest, Signor, which has only preserved your life/' — — « What ? My life ? How so ?''— ** The honest gentleman, who has just taken to his heels, stole behind you with true cat-like caution, and had al- ready raised his dagger, when I saw him — ^You owe your life to me, and the service is richly worth one little piece of money! Give me some alms, Signor, B 4 for 8 for on my soul I am hungry, thirsty, coldr— — " Hence, scurvy companion! I know you, and your tricks too well. This is all a concerted scheme between you, a design upon my purse, an at- tempt to procure both money and thanks under the lame pretence of having saved me from an assassin. — Go, fellow, go ! practise these dainty devices on the Doge's credulity, if you will; but with Buonarotti you stand no chance, believe me.'*— The wretched starving beggar stood like one petrified, and gazed on the taunting stranger. — ^^ No, as I have a soul to save, Signor, 'tis no lye that I tell you ! — 'tis the plain truth ; have compassion, or I die this night of hunger,"-— — ^« Be- — '' Begone this instant, I say, or by- heaven. . . ." — The unfeeling man here drew out a concealed pistol, and pointed it at his preserver. — " Merciful Heaven ! and is it thus that services are acknowledged in Ve- nice?"— — ^' The watch is at no great dis- tance; I need only raise my voice, and ♦ • • • — " Hell and confusion! do you take me for a robber then?" — — " Make no noise, I tell you! Be quiet, you had better!" — — '^ Hark you, Signor! Buonarotti i| your name, I think? I will write it down, ID down, as belonging to the second scoun- drel with whom I have met in Ve- nice. ■ He paused for a moment; then con- tinuing in a dreadful voice, — " And when," said he, " thou, Buonarotti, shalt hereafter hear the name of ^M- lino.iiAiHrembler^ — Abellino turned away, and left the hard-hearted Venetian. n CHAP. II. The Banditti. And now rushed the unfortunate wildly through the streets of Venice; he railed at fortune; he laughed and cursed by turns ; yet sometimes he sud- denly stood still, seemed as pondering on some great and wond'rous enterprize, and then again rushed onwards, as if hastening to its execution. Propped against a column of the Sig- noria, he counted over the whole sum of his misfortunes. His wandering eye- balls seemed to seek comfort; but they found it not. — " Fate," he at length exclaimed in a paroX' 12 a paroxysm of despair ; " Fate has con- demned me to be either the wildest of adventurers .... or one, at the relation of whose crimes the world must shud- der! To astonish is my destiny: Ro- salvo can know no medium : Rosalvo can never act like common men! — Is it not the hand of fate, which has led me hi- ther? Who could have ever dreamt, that the son of the richest Lord in Naples should have depended for a beggar's alms on Venetian charity! /. . . . /, who feel myself possest of strength of body and energy of goul fit for executing the most daring deeds .... Behold me creeping in rags through the streets of this inhos- pitable city, and torturing my wits in vain to discover some means, by which I may rescue life from the jaws of famine! Those men, whom my munificence nou- rished, Vv^ho at my table bathed their worthless souls in the choicest wine of Cyprus, and glutted themselves with every IS every deUcicy which the globe's four quarters could supply, those very men now deny to my necessity even a miser- able crust of mouldy bread. — Oh! that is dreadful, cruel! Cruel of men! cruel of Heaven!*' — He paused j he folded his arms, and sighed. — " Yet will I bear it! I will submit to my destiny! I will traverse every path, and go through every degree of human wretchedness ; and whate'er may be my fate, I will be still fiiyself^ and whate'er may be my fate, I will still act greatly ! Away then with the Count Rosalvo, whom once all Naples idolized; now .... now am I the beggar Abellino I — A beggar? — that name stands last in the scale of worldly rank, but first in the list of the famishing, the outcast, and the unworthy." — Something 14 Something rustled near him — Abelll- no gazed around. He was aware of the Bravo, whom he had struck to the ground that night, and whom two com- panions of a similar stamp had now joined. As they advanced, they cast inquiring glances around them. They were in search of some one. # — " It is of thee^ that they are in search,^' said Abellino ; then advanced a few steps, and whistled. The ruiEans stood still — they whis- pered together, and seemed to be un- decided. Abellino whistled a second time. — " Tis he!" — could he hear one of them say distinctly — and in a moment after they advanced slowly towards him. Abellino 15 Abellinokept his place, but unsheathed his sword. The three unknown [they were masked] stopped a few paces from him. — " How now, fellow?" quoth one of them, " what is the matter? Why- stand you on your guard?" — Abellino. — It is as well that you should be made to keep your distance, for I knoiv you; you are certain honest gentlemen, who live by taking away the lives of others. — The First Ruffian — ^Was not your whisding addrest to m / Abellino — It was. A Ruffian — And what would you with us? Abellino m ^iiAbellino — ^Hear me! I am a miser- able wretch, and starving j give me an dms out of your booty! A RuiBan — An alms? Ha! ha! ha! By my soul, that is whimsical!- -Alms from us, indeed! — Oh! by all means! No doubt, you shall have alms in plenty! Abellino — Or else give me fifty se- quins, and I'll bind myself to your ser- vice till I shall have worked out my debt. A Ruffian — Aye? And pray then, who may you be? had formed its expression into an eternal grin. His eye [for he had but one] was sunk deep in his head, and little more than the white of it was visible j and even that litde 27 little was bvershadowed by the protru- sion of his dark and bushy eye-brow. In the union of his features werfe found collected in one hideous assemblage all the most coarse and uncouth traits, which ever had been exhibited singly in wooden cutsj and the observer was left in doubt, whether this repulsive physiognomy exprest stupidity of intel- lect or mahciousness of heart, or whether it implied them both together, — " Now then I am satisfied!*' roared Abellino, and dashed the still-full goblet upon the ground. — " Speak! what would you know of me? I am ready to give you answers." — — " The first thing," replied Matteo, " the first thing necessary is to give us a proof of your strength, for this is of material importance in our undertakings. — Are you good at wrestling?" — — " I know 28 . — *^ I know not: try me/*— — '^ Cinthia, remove the table— Now then, Abellino, which of us will you un- dertake? Whom among us dost think, thou canst knock down as easy as yon poor dabbler in the art, Pietrino?" — '' Which of you?" cried Abellino; ^^ all of you together, and half a dozen more such pitiful scoundrels!" — And he sprang from his seat, threw his sword on the table, and measured the strength of his antagonists with his single eye. The banditti burst into a loud fit of laughter. — " Now then," cried Abellino fierce- ly; " now then for the trial! — ^Why come you not on?" — — " Fellow " replied Matteo, " take my 29 my advice; try first, what you can do with me alone, and learn what sort of men you haye to manage. Tliink you, we are marrowless boys, or delicate Sig- nors, who waste their strength in the embrace of harlots?'* Abellino answered him by a scornfiil laugh — ^Matteo became furious: his com- panions shouted aloud, and clapped their hands. — " To business!" said Abellino; " I'm now in a right humour for sport! Look to yourselves, my lads!" — And in the same instant he collected his forces together, threw the gigantic Matteo over his head as had he been an infant, knocked Struzzadownon the right hand, and Pictrino on the left, tumbled Tho- maso to the end of the room head over heels, and stretched Baluzzo with- out so Gut animation upon the neighbouring benches. Three minutes elapsed, ere the sub- dued bravos could recover themselves^ loud shouted Abellino, while the asto- nished Cinthia gazed and trembled at the terrible exhibition. — ^^ By the blood of St. Januarius/* cried Matteo at length, rubbing his bat- tered joints, " the fellow is our master. Cinthia, take care to give him our best chamber." — — " He must have made a compact with the devil!" grumbled Thomaso, and forced his dislocated wrist back mto its socket. No one seemed inclined to hazard a second trial of strength. The night was * far 31 far advanced, or rather the grey of morn- ing abready was visible over the sea. The banditti separated, and each retired to his chamber. 32 The Daggers^ ABEtLiNO, this Italian Hercules, all terrible as he appeared to be, was not long a member of this society, before his companions felt towards him senti- ments of the most unbounded esteem* AH loved, all valued him for his extra- ordinary talents for a Bravo's trade, to which he seemed peculiarly adapted, not ' only by his wonderful strength of body, but by the readiness of his wit and his never-failing presence of mind* Even Cinthia was inclined to feel some little affection for hims but . ♦ . . he really was too ugly. Matteo 33 Matteo [as Abellino was soon given to understand] was the captain of this dangerous troop. He was one who car- ried villainy to the highest pitch of re- finement, incapable of fear, quick and crafty, and troubled with less consci- ence than a French financier. The booty and price of blood, which his associates brought in daily, were always delivered up to him ; he gave each man his share, and retained no larger portion for himself, than was allotted to the others. The catalogue of those, whom he had dispatched into the other world, was already too long for him to have repeated it : many names had slipped his memory; but his greatest pleasure in his hours of relaxation was to relate such of these murderous anecdotes as he still remembered, in the benevolent intention of inspiring his hearers with a desire to follow his example. His weapons were kept separate from the rest, and occu- o pied u fled a whole apartment. Here wef 6 to be found daggers of a thousand different fashions, witb guards and wit/jout them 5 two — three — and four edged. Here were stored air-guns, pistols, and blun- derbusses ; poisons of various kinds and operating in various ways ; garments fit for every possible disguise, whether to personate the Monk, the Jew, or the Mendicant, the Soldier, the Senator, or the Gondolcer. On6 day he summoned Abellino to attend him in this armoury. — " Mark me," said he; " thou wilt turn out a brave fellow, that I can see already. It is now time that you should earn that bread for yourself, which hitherto you have owed to our bounty. —Look! Here hast thou a dagger of the finest steel ; you must charge for its use by the inch* If vou plunge it only one - ^^ One inch deep into the bosom of his foes your employer tnust reward you with 6nly one sequin : if two inches, with ten sequins ; if three, with twenty ; if the whole dagger, you may then name your Ofwn price. — ^Here is next a glass poni- ard ; whomever this pierces, that man'g death is certain. — As soon as the blow is given, you must break the dagger in the woynd ; the flesh will close over the point which has been broken off, and which will keep its quarters till the day of resurrection !— Lastly, observe this tnetallic dagger; its tavlty conceals a subtile poison, which whenever you touch this spring, will immediately in- fuse death into the veins of him whorn the weapon's point hath wounded.-^ Take these daggers ; in giving thetil 1 present you with a capital, capable of bringing home to you most heavy and most precious interesti'* — o 2 Abellino 36 Abelllno received the Instruments of death, but his hand shook as it grasped them. \ — " Possest of such unfailing wea- pons, of what immense sums must your robberies have made you nriaster 1" — — " Scoundrel !" Interrupted Matteo, frowning and offended, " among us robbery is unknown. What? Dost take us for common plunderers, for mere thieves^ cut-purses, house-breakers, and villains of that low miserable stamp ?" — — " Perhaps what you wish me to take you for, is something worse ; for to speak openly, Matteo, villains of that stamp are contented with plundering a purse or a casket, which can easily be filled again; but that which %ue take from others is a jewel which a man never has but once, and which once stolen can never 37 never be replaced. Are we not then a thousand times more atrocious plun? derers ?*' — — " By the House at Loretto, I think you have a mind to moralize, Abel- lino r— — " Hark ye, Matteo, only one ques- tion ; at the day of judgment, which think you will hold his head highest, the thief, or the assassin V — — « Ha! ha! ha!" — " Think not, that Abellino speaks thus from want of resolution. Spe^^k but the word, and I murder half the sena^ tors of Venice j but still. • • « — " Fool ! know, the Bravo must be Above crediting the nurse's antiquated tales of vice and virtue. What is vir- p 3 tue? 88 tue? Wliat is Adce ? Nothing, but such things as forms of government, custom, manners, and education have made sa- cred ; and that which men are able to make honourable at one time, it is in their power to make dishonourable at another, whenever the humour takes, them : had not the senate forbidden us to give opinions freely respecting the politics of Venicf 5 there would have been nothing wrong in giving such opinions ; ^nd were the senate to declare that it i^ right to give such opinions, that which to-day is thought a crime would be thought meritorious to-morrow — ^Then pry 'thee let us Tiave no more of such doubts as thesei We are men, as much as are the Doge and his senators, and have reason as much as they have to lay down the law of right and wrong, and ^o alter the law of right and wrong, and %' decree what shall be vice, and what 'shall be virtue." — Aljellinq Abeilino laughed — Matteo proceeded with increased animation. — *' Perhaps you will tell me, that our trade is dishonourable ! And what then is the thing called honour ! 'Tis a word, an empty sound, a mere fantastic creature of the imagination ! — Ask, as you traverse some frequented street, in what honour consists ? — the usurer will answer — ^ To be honourable is to be rich, and he has most honour, who can heap up the greatest quantity of sequins.' — ' By no means,' cries the voluptuary; ' honour consists in being beloved by every handsome woman, and finding no virtue proof against your attacks/ — * How mistaken !' interrupts the gene- ral; 'to conquer whole cities, to destroy whole armies, to ruin whole provinces, that indeed brings real honour!' — The man of learning places his renown \\\ the number of pages which he has D t either 40 either written or read ; the tinker, in the number of pots and kettles which he has made, or mended; the nun, in the number of good things which she has done, or bad things which she has resisted ; the coquette, in the list pf her admirers ; the republic, in the extent of her provinces; and thus, my friend, every one thinks, that honour consists in something different from the rest. — And why then should not the Bravo think, that honour consists in reaching the perfection of his trade, and in guiding a dagger to the heart of an enemy with unerring aim ?" — " By my life, 'tis a pity, Matteo, that you should be a Bravo ; the schools have lost an excellent teacher of phi-r Josophy !" — " Do you think so ? — Why, the fact Js thus, AbeUino — — I was educated ii^ a mQr a monastery ; my father was a dignified prelate in Lucca, and my mother a nun of the Ursuline order, greatly respected for her chastity and devotion. — ^Now, Signor, it was thought fitting, that I should apply closely to my studies ; my father, good man, would fain have made me a light of the church ; but I soon found, that I was better qualified for an incendiary's torch, I followed the bent of my genius, yet count I not my studies^ thrown away, since they taught me more philosophy than to tremble at phantoms created by my own imagina- tion. Follow my example, friend, and §0 forewelL" — m CHAP. V, Solitude. Abellino had already passed si^ weeks in Venice, and yet [either from want of opportunity, or of inclination] he had suffered his daggers to remain idle in their sheaths. This proceeded partly from his not being as yet suffici- ently acquainted with the windings and turnings, the bye-lanes and private alleys of the town ; and partly because he had hitherto found no customers, whose murderous designs stood in need of his^ helping hand. This want of occupation was irksome to him in the extreme: he panted for action^ 4t action, and was condemned to indO* lence. With a melancholy heart did he roam through Venice, and number every step with a sigh. He frequented the public places, the taverns, gardens, and every scene which was dedicated to amusement. But no where could he find what he sought-— tranquillity. One evening, he had loitered beyond the other visitants in a public garden, situated on one of the most beautiful of the Venetian islands. He strolled from arbour to arbour, threw himself down on the sea-shore, and watched the play of the waves, as they sparkled in tl^e moon-shine. — " Four years ago," said he with a sigh, " just such an heavenly evening yras it, that I stole from Valeria's lips the 44 the first kissy and heard from Valerians lips for the first time the avowal, that ^he loved me," He was silent, and abandoned himself to the melancholy recollections which thronged before his mind's eye. Every thing around him was so calm, so silent ! Not a single zephyr sighed among the blades of grass ; but a storm raged in the bosom of Abellinp. —- " Four years ago could I have be- lieved that a time would come when I should play the part of a Bravo in Ve- nice ! Oh! where are they flown, the golden hopes and plans of glory, which smiled upon me in the happy days of my youth ? — I am a Bravo ; to be a J^eggar were to be something better^ g(afK When my good old father in th^ enthu-T 45 enthusiasm of paternal vanity so oft threw his arms around my neck, and cried — ' My boy, thou wilt render the name of Rosalvo glorious !' — God, as I listened, how was my blood on fire ! What thought I not, what felt I not, what that was good and great did I not promise myself to do ! — The father is dead, and the son. ... is a Venetiaa Bravo ! When my preceptors praised and admired me, and, carried away by the warmth of their feelings, clapped my shoulder, and exclaimed — ' Count, thou wilt immortalize the ancient race of Rosalvo !' — Ha ! in those blessed moments of sweet delirium, how bright and beauteous stood futurity before me ! • When happy in the performance of some good deed, I returned hom^, and saw Valeria hasten to receive me with open arms, and when, while she clasped me to her bosom, I heard her whisper — ' Oh ! who could forbear to love 46 love th^ great Rosalvo !*^ — . . . . God ! oh ! God ! — Away, away, glorious visi- ons of the past ! To look on you drives me mad I'* — He was again silent; he bit his lip iri fory, raised one emaciated hand to hea^ Ven, and stilids: his forehead violently idth the other, -»-^' Art assassin. . . * the slave of cow- ards and rascals. ... the ally of the great-* est villiaris, whom the Venetian sun ever shines upon. . . » . Such is now the great Rosalvo !— Fye! oh ! fye on't !— And yet to this tviretchedf lot hath fatality condemned me.^* Suddenly he sprang from the ground after a long silence ; his eyes sparkled ; his countenance was changed j he drew his breath eaier. --^^ Yesi 47 •*-" Yes ! by Heaven, yes ! Great ^ Count Rosalvo, that can I be no longer ; but from being great as a Venetian Bravo, what prevents me? — Souls in bliss !" he exclaimed, and sank on his knee, while he raised his folded hands to Heaven, as if about to pronounce the fhost awful oath, " Spirit of my father! Spirit of Valeria! I will not become unworthy of you ! Hear me, if your ghosts are permitted to wander near me^ hear me swear, that the Bravo shall not disgrace his origin, nor render vain the hopes, which soothed you in the bitter* ness of death ! No ! sure as I live, I will be the only dealer in this miserable trade, and posterity shall be compelled to honour that name, which my actions shall render illustrious/' — He bowed his forehead, till it touched the earth, and his tears flowed plente- Misly. Vast conceptions swelled hi^ soul : > 48 soul i, lie dwelt on wonder ous views, till their extent bewildered his brain ; yet another hour elapsed, and he sprang from the earth to realize them ! — " I will enter into no compact against human nature with five miser- able cut-throats. ^lone will I make the republic tremble, and before eight days are flown, these murderous knaves ^hall swing upon a gibbet. Venice shall no k)nger harbour^i^^ banditti j one and ofie only shall inhabit hsre, and that one shall beard the Doge himself, shall watch over right and over wrong, and accord- ing as he judges, shall reward, and pu- nish. Before eight days are flown, the state shall be purified from the presence of these outcasts of humanity, and then shall / stand here alone ! Then must every villain in Venice, who hitherto has Jcept the daggers of my companions in employment, have recourse to, /ne ; then shall 49 shall I know the names and persons o( all those cowardly murderers, of all those illustrious profligates, with whom Mat- teo and his companions carry on the trade of blood — And then . . . Abellino ! Abellino ! . . . . that is the name ! Hear it Venice, hear it, and trembly !" Intoxicated with the wildness of his hopes, he rushed out of the garden ; he summoned a Gondoleer, threw himself into the boat, and hastened to the dwell- ing of Cinthia, where the inhabitants already were folded in the arms of sleep. ^o CHAP. VI. Rosabella, the Doge*s lovely Niece. — -** Hark, comrade,'* said Matteo the next morning to Abellino ; " to-day thou shalt make thy first step in our profession." — — " To-day ?*' hoarsely murmured Abellino; " and on whom am I to show my skin?'*— ' — ^^ Nay, to say truth, 'tis but a woman ; but one must not give too diiEcult a task to a young be^nner* I will myself accompany you, and see how you conduct yourself in this first trial."— — « Huml" ^— " Hum !" said AbelUno, and mea- sured Matteo with his eye from head to foot. — " To-day about four o'clock thou shalt follow me to Dolabella's gardens, which are situated on the south side o^ Venice ; we must both be disguised, you understand. In these gardens are excellent baths 5 and after using these baths, the Doge's niece, the lovely Rosabella of Corfu, frequently walks 'fcdthout attendants. And then . . . yoti conceive me ?" *^** And you will accompany m^?*' ':' ^"^ t win be a spectator of your first adventure j 'tis thus I deal by every one."— — ^' And how many inches deep must I plunge my dagger ?" — 1 2 — « T# •^2 . —-"To the hilt, boy, to the very hilt ! Her death is required, and the payment will be princely; Rosabella in the grave^ we are rich for life." — . Every other point was soon adjusted. {Toon was now past, the clock in the neighbouring church of the Benedictines struck four, and Matteo and Abellino were already fcarth. ^^ They arrived at the gardens of Doia- bella, which that day were unusually crowded. Every shady avenue was thronged with people of both sexes j every arbour was occupied by the per- sons most distinguished in Venice ; in every corner sighed love-sick couples, as they waited for the wished approach of twilight ; and on every side did strains of vocal and instrumental music pour their harmony on the enchanted ear. Abellind 5S . Abellino mingled with the crowd. A most respectable-looking peruke con- cealed the repulsive ugliness of his fea- tures; he imitated the w^alk and manners of a gouty old man, and supported himself by a crutch, as he walked slowly through the assembly. His habit, richly embroidered, procured for him univer- sally a good reception, and no one scru- pled to enter into conversation with him respecting the weather, the commerce of the republic, or the designs of its enemies ; and on none of these subjects was Abellino found incapable of sustain- ing the discourse. '» i^if > 0^ By these means he soon contrived t — ^'' You are a native of Florence, Count Flodoardo ? In Venice we dislike these kind of compliments ; at least / dislike them, and wish to hear them from no one less than from you." — — «Bv **' Bjr my life, Signora, I spoke but as I thought ; my words concealed na flattery."— — ^^ See! the Doge enters the salooit with Manfrone and Lomellino ; he wiU seek us among the dancers. Come, let us join them."— Floddardo followed her in silence. The dance began. Heavens ! how lovely looked Rosabella as she glided along to the sweet sounds of music, conducted by Flodoardo ! How handsome looked Flodoardo, as lighter than; air he flew down the dance,, while his brilliant eyes saw no object but Rosabella ! He was still without his mask, and bare-headed ; but every eye glanced away from the helmets 2ind bar rettesy waving with plumes and sparkling with jewels, to gaze on Flodoardo's raven locks, as they floated on the air in wild luxuriance. A murmur murmur of admiration rose from every corner of the saloon, but it rose un- marked by those who were the objects of it ; neither Rosabella nor Flodoardo at that moment formed a wish to be applauded, except by each other. 124 CHAP. II. The Florentine Stranger* Two evenings had elapsed since the Doge's entertainment ; on the second Parozzi sat in his own apartment with Memmo and Falieri. Dimly burnt the lights : lowering and tempestuous were the skies without; gloomy and fearful were the souls of the libertines within. Parozzi — [after a long silence J-—- What? are you both dreaming? Ho there ! Memmo, Falieri, fill your gob- lets. y Memmo— [with indifference] — Well ! to please you. . . , — But I care not for wine to-night. Falieri — 125 , Falieri — ^Nor I.-^Methinks it tastes like vinegar — Yet the wine itself is good y 'tis our ill-temper spoils it. Parozzi — Confound the rascals ! Memmo — What ? the banditti ? Parozzi — Not a trace of them can be found ! It is enough to kill one with vexation ! Falieri — And in the mean while the time runs out, our projects will get wind, and then we shall sit quietly in the state prisons of Venice, objects of derision to the populace and ourselves ! I could tear my flesh for anger ! — [An universal silence.^ Parozzi — [striking his hand, against the table passionately] Hodoardo ! Flodoardoi Falieri — - 126 Falieri — In a couple of hours I must attend the Cardinal Gonzaga ! and what intelligence shall I have to ^ve him ? Memmo — Come, come! Contarino cannot have been absent so long without cause ; I warrant you he will bring some news with him when he arrives. Falieri — Psha ! psha! My life on't he lies at this moment at Olympiads feet, and forgets us, the republic, the banditti, and himself. ^ Parozzi — And so neither of you know any thing of this Flodoardo ? Memmo — No more than of what happened on Rosabella's birth-day. Falieri — Well then, I know one thing more about him ; Parozzi is jealous of him* Parozzi— 127 Parozzi — ^I? Ridiculous! Rosabella may bestow her hand on the German Emperor, or a Venetian Gondoleer, todthout if:s giving me the least anxiety. Falieri— Ha! ha! ha! Memmo — Well, one thing at least even Envy must confess ; Flodoardo is the handsomest man in Venice. I doubt whether there's a woman in the city wha has virtue enough to resist him. Parozzi — And / should doubt it too, if women had as little sense as you have, and looked only at the shell, without minding the kernel. . . . Memmo — ^Which unluckily is exactly the thing which women always do. Falieri — The old Lomellino seems to be extremely intimate with this Flodo- ardo; 128 ardo ; they say he was well acquainted with his father. Memmo— It was he who presented 'him to the Doge. Parozzi — Hark ! — Surely some one knocked at the palace door ? Memmo — ^It can be none but Conta- rino. Now then we shall hear whether he has discovered the banditti. Falieri — [starting from. his chair] — • I'll swear to that footstep ! it's Conta- rino! The doors were thrown open ; Con- tarino entered hastily, enveloped in his cloak. — •" Good evening, stv^eet gentlemeh!'* said he, and threw his mantle aside. — And 129 And Memmo, Parozzi, and Falieri started back in horror, — " Good God !'* they exclaimed, " what has happened ? You are covered with blood r— — " A trifle !" cried Contarino ; " is that wine ? quick ! give me a goblet of it ! I expire with thirst." — Falieri — [while he gives him a cup] — But, Contarino ! you bleed ? Contarino — You need not tell me that — I did not do it ^yself, I promise you.--^ Parozzi — ^First let us bind up your wounds, and then tell us what has hap- pened to you — It is as well that the servants shpuld remain ignorant of K your 130 your adventure ; I will be your surgeon myself. ^t .Contarino— What has happened to me, say you ? Oh ! a joke, gentlemen ! a mere joke ! — Here, Falieri, fill the bowl again. Memmo — I can scarcely breathe for terror ! Contarino — Very possibly; neither should i, were I Memmo, instead of being Contarino — the wound bleeds plenteously it's true, but it's by no means dangerous — [He tore open his doublet, and uncovered his bosom] — There look, comrades ! you see it's only a cut of not more than two inches deep. Memmo -^[shudderni^g^-— Mercy on me! 131 me ! the very sight of it makes my blood run cold. Parozzi brought ointments and linen, and bound up the wound of his associ- ate. Contarino — Old Horace is in the right : a philosopher can be any thing he pleases, a cobler, a king, or a physician. Only observe with what dignified address the philosopher Parozzi spreads that plaister for me! — I thank you, friend; that's enough — And now, comrades, place yourselves in a circle l^^und me, and Usten to the wonders which I am going to relate. Falieri — ^Proceed. Contarino — As soon as it was twi- light, I stole out, wrapped in my cloak, dQj:ermined if possible to discover some k2 of 132 of the banditti : I knew not their per- sons, neither were they acqudnted with mine. An extravagant undertaking, perhaps you will tell me ; but I was re- solved to convince you, that every thing which a man deteriiiines to do^ may be done. I had some information respect- ing the rascals, though it was but slight, and on these grounds I proceeded — I happened by mere accident to stum.ble upon a gondoleer, whose appearance ex- cited my curiosity. I fell into discourse with him \ I soon was convinced that he was not ignorant of the lurking-place of the Bravos, and by means of some gold and many fair speeches, I at length brought him to confess, that though not regularly belonging to the band, he had occasionally been employed by them. I immediately made a bargain with him ; he conducted me in his gondola through the greatest part of Venice, sometimes right, sometimes left, till I Iqst e^ery idea 133 idea as to the quarter of the town in which I found myself. At length he insisted on binding my eyes with his handkerchief, and I was compelled to submit to this condition.^ — Half an hour elapsed before the gondola stopped ; he told me to descend, conducted me through a couple ©f streets, and at length knocked at a door, where he left me still blindfolded — the door was opened ; my business was inquired with great caution, and after some demur I was at length admitted. The handker- chief was now withdrawn from my eyes, and I found myself in a small chamber, surrounded by four men of not the most creditable appearance, and a young wo- man, who [it seems] had gpened the door for me. Falieri — You are a daring fellow, Contarino ! K 3 Con. 134 Contarino — ^Here was no time to be lost. I instantly threw my purse on the table, promised them mountains of gold, and fixed on particular days, hours, and signals, which were necessary to facilitate our future intercourse. For the present I only required that Manfrone, Conari, and Lomellino should be removed with all possible expedition. '^ All— Bravo! Contarino — So far every thing went exactly as we could have wished ; and one of my new associates was just set- ting out to guide me home, when we were surprised by an unexpected visit. Parozzi — ^Well ? Memmo — [anxiously] — Go on for God's sake! , Con- 135 Contarino — A knocking was heard at the door ; the girl went to enquire the cause ; in an instant she returned pale as a corse, and — " Fly ! fly !'' cried she. Falieri — What followed ? Contarino — ^Why then followed a whole legion of sbirri and police- officers 5 and who should be at their head but. . . . the Florentine stranger ! All — ^Flodoardo ? what, Flodoardo ? Contarino — Flodoardo. Falieri — What demon could have guided him thither! Parozzi — Hell and furies ! Oh ! that I had been there ! Memmo — 136 Memmo — There now, Parozzi ! you see at least that Flodoardo is no coward. Falieri — Hush ! let us hear the rest. Contarino— r-We stood, as if we had been petrified ; not a soul could stir a finger. — " In the name of the Doge and the republic/' cried Flodoardo, " yield yourselves, and deliver your arms."— r " The devil shall yield himself sooner than we !" exclaimed one of the baiir ditti, and forced a sword from one of tlie officers ; the others snatched their, musquets from the wails ; and as for me, my first care was to extinguish the lamp, so that we could not tell friends from foes- — But still the confounded moonshine gleamed through the win- dow-shutters, and shed a partial light through the room. — " Look to yourself, Contarino !" thought I ; "if you are found here, you will be hanged for com- 137 company !" and I drew my sword, and made a lunge at Flodoardo — But, how- ever well-intended, my thrust was foiled by his sabre, which he whirled around with the rapidity of lightning. I fought like a madman, but all my skill was without effect on this occasion, and before I was aware of it, Flodoardo ripped open my bosom. I felt myself wounded, and sprang back; at that moment two pistols were fired, and the flash discovered to me a small side door, which they had neglected to beset ; through this" I stole unperceived into the adjoining chamber, burst open the grated window, sprang below unhurt, crost a court-yard, climbed two or three garden-walls, gained the canal, where a gondola fortunately was waiting, per- suaded the boatman to convey me with all speed to the Place of St. Mark, and thence hastened hither, astonished to find XSS find myself still alive— There is an infernal adventure for you ! Parozzi — I shall go mad ! Falieri — ^Every thing we design is counteracted ! the more trouble we give ourselves, the further are we jfrom the goal ! Memmo — ^I confess it seems to me as if Heaven gave us warning to desist — - How say you ? Contarino — Psha ! these are trifles ! ■ — Such accidents should only serve to sharpen our wits ! — the more obstacles I encounter, the firmer is my resolution to surmount them. Falieri — Do the banditti know who you are ? Con- m Contarino — ^No; they are not only Ignorant of my name, but suppose me to be a mere instrument of some powerful man, who has been injured by the ducal confederates. Memmo^ — V7ell, Contarino, in my mind you should thank Heaven that you have escaped so well ! Falieri — But since he is an absolute stranger in Venice, how could Flodoardo discover the lurking-place pf the ban- ditti ? Contarino — I know not — Probably by mere accident, like myself. — But by the Power that made me, he shall pay dearly for this wound ! Falieri — ^Flodoardo is rather too hasty in making himself remarked. Parozzi — 140 Parozzi — Flodoardo must die ! Contarino — [filling a goblet J — ^May his next cup contain poison ! Falieri — I shall do myself the honour ef becoming better acquainted with the gentleman. Contarino — Memmo, we must needs have full purses, or our business will hang on hand woefully — When does your uncle take his departure to a better world ? Memmo — ^To-morrow evening!— and yet. . . . Ugh ! I tremble ! Ul CHAP. III. More confusion. Since Rosabella's birth-day, no wo- man in Venice who had the slightest pretensions to beauty, or the most re- mote expectations of making conquests, had any subject of conversation except the handsome Florentine : he found em- ployment for every female tongue, and she who dared not employ her tongue, made amends for the privation with her thoughts. Many a maiden now enjoyed less tranquil slumbers ; many an expe- rienced coquette sighed, as she laid on her colour at the looking-glass ; many a prude forgot the rules which she had imposed upon herself, and daily fre- quented the gardens and public walks, in ,142 in which report gave her the hope of meeting Flodoardo. But from the time that, placing him- self at the head of the sbirri, he had dared to enter boldly the den of the ban- ditti, and seize them at the hazard of his life, he was scarcely more an object of attention among the women than among the men. Greatly did they ad- mire his courage and unshaken presence of mind, while engaged In so dangerous an adventure ; but still more were they astonished at his penetration in discover- ing where the Bravos concealed them- selves, an attempt which had foiled even the keen wits of the so much celebrated police of Venice. The Doge Andreas cultivated the ac- quaintance of this singular young man with increasing assiduity ; and the more he conversed with him, the more de- serving 143 serving of consideration did Flodoardo appear. The action by which he had rendered the republic a service so essen- tial, was rewarded by a present that would not have disgraced imperial grati- tude ; and one of the most important offices in the state was confided to hu superintendance. Both favours v/ere conferred unso- licited ; but no sooner was the Floren- tine apprized of the Doge's benevolent care of him, than with modesty and re- spect he requested to decline the pro- posed advantages. The only favour which he requested wasj to be permitted to live free and independent in Venice during a year, at the end of which he promised to name that employment which he esteemed the best adapted to his abilities and inclination. Flodo- 144 Flodoardo was lodged in the magnifi* cent palace of his good old patron Lo- mellino : here he lived in the closest re- tirement, studied the most valuable parts of antient and modern literature, re- mained for whole days together in his own apartment, and v/as seldom to be seen in public except upon some great solemnity. But the Doge, Lomellino, Manfrone, and Conari, men, who had established the fame of Venice on so firm a basis that k would require centuries to under- mine it ; men, in whose society one seemed to be withdrawn from the circle of ordinary ^nortals, and honoured by the intercourse of superior beings ; men, who now graciously received the Floren- tine stranger into their intimacy, and re- solved to spare no pains in forming him to support the character of a great man : it 145 It could not long escape the observation of men like these, that Flodoardo's gaiety was assumed, and that a secret sorrow preyed upon his heart. In vain did Lomellino, who loved him like a father, endeavour to discover the source of his melancholy ; in vain did the venerable Doge exert himself to dis« perse the gloom which opprest his young favourite; Flodoardo remained silent and sad. And Rosabella? Rosabella would have belied her sex, had she remained gay while Flodoardo sorrowed. Her spirits were flown ; her eyes were fre- quently obscured with tears. She grew daily paler and paler ; till the Doge, who doated on her, was seriously alarmed for her health — at length Rosabella grew really ill ; a fever fixed itself upon her j she becsune weak, and was confined to L her 146 her chamber, and her complaint baffled the skill of the most experienced phy- sicians in Venice. In the midst of these unpleasant cir- cumstances in which Andreas and his friends now found themselves, an inci- dent occurred one morning, which rais- ed their uneasiness to the very highest pitch. Never had so bold and audacious an action been heard of in Venice, as that which I am now going to relate. The four banditti, whom Hodoardo had seized, Pietrino, Struzza, Baluzzo, and ThomasOjhad been safely committed to the Doge's dungeons, where they underwent a daily examination, and looked upon eyery sun that rose, as the last that would ever rise for the??!. An- dreas and his confidential counsellors now flattered themselves that the public tranquillity had nothing more to appre- hend. 147 hend, and that Venice was completely purified of the miscreants, whom gold could bribe to be the instruments of re- venge and cruelty. . . . when all at once the following address was discovered, affixed to most of the remarkable sta- tues, and pasted against the corners of the principal streets, and pillars of the public buildings. VENETIANS! Struzza, Thomaso, Pietrino, BaluzzO, and Matteo, five as brave men as the world ever produced ; who, had they stood at the head of armies, would have been called heroes^ and now being called bandittij are fallen victims to the in- justice of state-policy j these men, it is true, exist for you no longer : but their place is supplied by him, whose name is affixed to this paper, and who will stand by his employers with body and with soul ! I laugh at the vigilance of the L 2 . Venetian 146 Venetian police ; I laugh at the crafty and insolent Florentine, whose hand has dragged my brethren to the rack ! Let those v/ho need me, seek me ; they will find me every where ! Let those who search for me with the design of deliver- ing me up to the law, despair and trem- ble ; they will find me no-where — But / shall find them^ and that when they least expect me ! — Venetians, you understand me! — Woe to the man who shall at- tempt to discover me ; his life and death depend upon my pleasure. — ^This comes from the Venetian Bravo, ABELLINO, cc Ah 149 — " An hundred sequins/' exclaimed the incensed Doge on reading the paper; *'' an hundred sequins to him who dis- covers this mobster Abellino, and a thou- sand to him who delivers him up to justice !" — But in vain did spie^j ransack every lurking-place in Venice; no Abellino was to be found. In vain did the luxu- rious, the avaricious, and the hungry- stretch their wits to the utmost, incited by the tempting promise of a thousand sequins. Abellino's prudence set all their ingenuity at defiance. But not the less did every one assert that he had recognised Abellino some- times in one disguise, and sometimes in another ; as an old man, a gondoleer, a woman, or a monk. Every body had seen him somewhere ; but unluckily nobody could teU where he was to be •jeen again. 1^ CHAP. IV. The Violet. I INFORMED my readers, In the be- ginning of the last chapter, that Flodo- ardo was become melancholy, and that Rosabella was indisposed : but I did not tell them what had occasioned this sud- den change. Flodoardo, who on his first arrival at Venice was all gaiety, and the life of every society in which he mingled, lost his spirits on one particular day 3 and it so happened, that it was on the very same day that Rosabella betrayed the first symptoms of indisposition. For 151 For on this unlucky day did the ca- price of accident, or perhaps the God- dess of Love [who has her caprices too every now and then], conduct Rosabella into her uncle's garden, which none but the Doge's intimate friends were per- mitted to enter, and where the Doge himself frequently reposed in solitude and silence during the evening hours of a sultry day. Rosabella, lost in thought, wandered listless and unconscious along the broad and shady alleys of the garden. Some- times, in a moment of vexation, she plucked the unoffending leaves from the hedges, and strewed them upon the ground ; sometimes she stopped sud- denly, then rushed forward with im- petuosity, then again stood still, and gazed upon the clear blue heaven. Sometimes her beautiful bosom was heaved with quick and irregular mo- h 4 tion : 152 tion: and sometimes an half-supprest 4agfa escaped from her lips of coral. — " He is very handsome !'' she mur- mured, and gazed with such eagerness on vacancy, as had she seen there some^ thing which was hidden from the sight of common observers, — " Yet Camilla is in the right,'* she resumed after a pause ; and she frowned ;is had she said that Camilla was in the wrong, This Camilla was her governess, her friend, her confidante, I may almost say her mother. Rosabella had lost her pa-, rents early : her mother died when her child could scarcely lisp her name ; and her father, Guiscardo of Corfu, the com- mander of a Venetian vessel, eight years before had perished in an engagement with the Turks, while he was still in the prime us prime of life. Camilla, one of the wor- thiest creatures that ever dignified the name of woman, supplied to Rosabella the place of mother, had brought her up from infancy, and was now her best friend, and the person to whose ear she confided all her little secrets. While Rosabella was still buried in her own reflections, the excellent Ca- milla advanced from a side-path, and hastened to join her pupil. Rosabella started. Rosabella — Ah! dear Camilla, is it you ? What brings you hither ? Camilla — ^You often call me your guardian angel, and guardian angels should always be near the object of their care, Rosa- 154 T Rosabella — Camilla, I have been thinking over your arguments ; I can- not deny that all you have said to me is very true, and very wise ; but still. . .^ , Camilla — But still, though your pru- dence agrees with me, your heart is of a contrary opinion ? Rosabella — It is indeed. Camilla — ^Nor do I blame your heart for differing from me, my poor girl ! I have acknowledged to you without dis- guise, that were / at your time of life, and were such a man as Flodoardo to- throw himself in my way, I could not receive his attentions with indifference. It cannot be denied, that this young stranger is uncommonly pleasing, and indeed, for any woman whose heart is disengaged, an uncommonly dangerous , compa- 155 companion. — There is something very prepossessing in his appearance; his manners are elegant, and short as has been his abode in Venice, it is already past doubting that there are many noble and striking features in his character — But alas ! after all, he is but a poor no- bleman, and it is not very probable that the rich and powerful Doge of Venice will ever bestow his niece on one, who, to speak plainly, arrived here little better than a beggar. No, no, child, believe me ; a romantic adventurer is no fit husband for Rosabella of Corfu. Rosabella — Dear Camilla, who was talking about husbands? What I feel for Flodoardo is merely affection, friendship Camilla — Indeed ? Then you would be perfectly satisfied, should some one of 156 of our wealthy ladies bestow her hand on Flodoardo ? Rosabella — [hastily]— Oh ! Flodoar> do would not accept her hand, Camilla ; of that I am sure. Camilla — Child! child! you would willingly deceive yourself. But be as* sured, that a girl who loves ever con- nects [perhaps unconsciously] the wish for an eternal union with the idea of an eternal affection. Now this is a wish which you cannot indulge in regard to Flodoardo, without seriously offending your uncle, who, good man as he is, must still submit to the severe controul of politics and etiquette. Rosabella — I know all that, Camilla ; but can I not make you comprehend that I am not in love with Flodoardo, and 157 and do not mean to be in love with him, and that love has nothing at all to do in the business ? I repeat to you, what I feel for him is nothing but sincere and fervent friendship; and surely Flodoardo deserves that I should feel that senti- ment for him — ^Deserves it, said I ? Oh! what does Flodoardo 7iot deserve ! Camilla — Aye, aye ! friendship indeed ♦ . • . and love . ; . . Oh ! Rosabella, you know not how often these deceivers borrow each other's mask to ensnare the hearts of unsuspecting maidens! you know not how often love finds admis- sion, when wrapt in friendship's cloak, into that bosom, which, had he ap- proached under his ot^ti appearance, would have been closed against him for ever ! — In short, my child, reflect how much you owe to your uncle ; reflect how much uneasiness this inclination would cost him ; and sacrifice to duty what 158 what at present is a mere caprice, but which, if encouraged, might make too deep an impression on your heart to be afterwards removed by your best efforts. Rosabella — You say right, Camilla; I really believe myself that my prepos- session in Flodoardo's favour is merely an accidental fancy, of which I shall easily get the better. No, no; I am not in love with Flodoardo, of that you may rest assured ; I even think, that I rather feel an antipathy towards him, since you have shown me the possibi- lity of his making me prove a cause of uneasiness to my kind, my excellent uncle. Camilla — [smiling] — Are your senti- ments of duty and gratitude so very strong ? Rosa- 159 Rosabella — Oh! that they are, Ca- milla, and so yoU will say yourself here- after — ^This disagreeable Flodoardo. . . . to give me so much vexation ! — I wish he had never come to Venice ! I declare I do not Kke him at all ! Camilla — No? — What? Not like Flodoardo ? Rosabella — [casting down her eyes] — ^No ; not at all — Not that I wish him ill either ; for you know, Camilla, there's no reason why 1 should hate this poor Flodoardo ? Camilla — Well, we wdll resume this subject when I return ; I have business, and the gondola waits for me — Farewell, my child, and do not lay aside your resb- kition as hastily as you took it up ! CamiDa 160 Camilla departed ; and Rosabella re- mained melancholy and uncertain ; she built castles in the air, and destroyed them as soon as built ; she formed wishes, and condemned herself for hav- ing formed them ; she looked round her frequently in search of something, but dared not confess to herself what it was of which she was in search. The evening was sultry, and Rosa- bella was compelled to shelter herself from the sun's overpowering heat. In the garden was a small fountain, bor- dered by a bank of moss, over which the magic hands of art and nature had formed a canopy of ivy and jessamine. Thither she bent her steps : she arrived at the fountain .... and instantly drew back, covered with blushes — ¥oy on the bank of moss, shaded by the protecting canopy, whose waving blossoms were reflected 161 reflected oh the fountain, Flodoardo was seated, and fixt his eyes on a roll of parchment. Rosabella hesitated whether she should retire or stay. Flodoardo started from his place apparently in no less confusion than herself, and relieved her from her indecision, by taking her hand with re- spect, and conducting her to the seat which he had just quitted. Now then she could not possibly re* tire immediately, unless she meant to violate every common principle of good breeding. Her hand was still clasped in Flodo- ardo's — ^But it was so natural for him to take it, that she could not blame him for having done so. — But what was she next to do ? — Draw her hand away ? — \VTiy should she, since he did her hand M no 162 no harm by keeping it, and the keeping it seemed to make him so happy? And how could the gentle Rosabella resolve to commit an act of such un- heard of cruelty, as wilfully to deprive any one of a pleasure which made ilm so happy, and which did herself nO harm ? — ^^ Signora,'* said Flodoardo, merely for the sake of saying something, ** you do well to enjoy the open air ; the even- ing is beautiful." — " But I interrupt your studies, my Lord ?" said Rosabella. — " By no means," answei^ed Flodo- ardo ; and there this interesting conver- sation came to a full stop. — Both looked down ; both examined the heaven and the earth, the trees and the flowers, 4ft the hopes of finding some hints for re- newing 163 newing the conversation ; but the mare anxiously they sought them, the more difficult did it seem to find what they sought : and in this painful embarrass- ment did two whole precious minutes elapse i — " Ah ! what a beautiful flower !'* suddenly cried Rosabella, in order to break the silence ; then stooped and plucked a violet with an appearance o( the greatest eagerness ; though, in fact, nothing at that moment could have been more a matter of indifference. — " It is a very beautiful flower, in- deed !*' gravely observed Flodoardo, and vns out of all patience with himself for having made so flat a speech. — " Nothing can surpass this purple!'* Continued Rosabella ; " red and blue so M 2 happily 164 happily blended, that no painter could produce so perfect an union!'* ..-^ — " Red and blue ? the one, the sym- bol of happiness, the other of affection .... Ah ! Rosabella, how enviable will be that man's lot on whom your hand should bestow such a flower ! Happiness jlfidf^' affection are more inseparably united than the red and blue which pur- ple that violet !" — — " You seem to attach a value to the flower of which it is but little de- serving." — " Might I but know on whom Rosa- bella will one day bestow what that flower expresses. . . . Yet this is a sub- ject, which I have no right to discuss — I know not what has happened to me to-day; I make nothing but blunders and 165 and mistakes — Forgive my presumption, Lady ; I will hazard such forward in- quiries no more." He was silent: Rosabella was silent also. All was calm and hushed, except in the hearts of the lovers. But though they could forbid their lips to betray their hidden affection j though Rosabella's tongue said not — " thou art he, Flodoardo, on whom this flower should be bestowed;" — though Flodoardo's words had not exprest — " Rosabella, give me that violet, and that which it implies ;" — oh ! their eyes were far from being silent. Those trea- cherous interpreters of secret feelings acknowledged more to each other than their hearts had yet acknowledged to themselves ! MS Flodo- 166 Flodoardo and Rosabella gazed on each other with looks which made all speech unnecessary. Sweet, tender, and enthusiastic was the smile which played round Rosabella's lips, when her eyes met those of the youth whom she had selected from the rest of mankind -^ and with mingled emotions of hope and fear did the youth study the meaning of that smile — -He understood it, and his heart beat louder, and his eyes flamed brighter. Rosabella trembled; her eyes could no longer sustain the fire of his glances, and a modest blush overspread her face and bosom, — " Rosabella! at length murmured Flodoardo unconsciously, and—" Flo- doardo ?" sighed Rosabella in the same tone. — " Give .^^^^ Oi^e me that violet!*' he ex- claimed eagerly ; then sank at her feet, and in a tone of the most humble sup- jHicatidn repeated — '' Oh! give it to Rosabella held the flower fast. tito^*-" Ask for it what thou wilt ; if a throne can purchase it, I will pay that price, or perish ! — Rosabella, give ni:e that flower."— She stole one look at the handsome suppliant, a^d^'dared not hazard a second^ bos eae Jitm^^My repose, my happiness^ my life, nay, even my glory, all depend on the possession of that little flower ! Let that be mine, and here I solemnly re- norunce aU else which the world calls prcciotis !*' ♦on M 4 The 168 The flower trembled in her snowy hand ; her fingers clasped it less firmly. — " You hear me, Rosabella? I kneel at your feet, and am I then in vain a beggar?"— The word beggar recalled to her me- mory Camilla and her prudent counsels -— " What am I doing?" she said to herself ; *' have I forgotten my promise .... my resolution .... Fly, Rosabella, fly, or this hour makes you faithless to yourself and duty !" — She tore the flower to pieces, and threw it contemptuously on the ground. — " I understand you, Flodoardo," said she y " ajid having understood you, will never suffer this subject to be re-» newed. Here let us part, and let me not 169 not again be offended by a similar pre- sumption — ^Farewell !" — She turned from him with disdain, and left Flodoardo rooted to his place with sorrow and astonishment. I'm ScARCEi.Y had she reached her cham- ber, ere Rosabella repented her having ^cted so courageously. It was cruel in her, she thought, to have given him so harsh an answer ! She recollected with what hopeless and melancholy looks the poor thunderstruck youth had followed her steps as she turned to leave him. She fancied that she saw him stretched despairing on the earth, his hair dishe- velled, his eyes filled with tears. She heard him term her the murderess of his repose, pray for death as his only re- fuge, and she saw him with every mo- ment approach towards the attainment of his prayer, through the tears which he 171 he shed on her account. Already she heard those dreadful words — " Flodo- atdo is no more 1'' — ^Already she saw the sympatliizing multitude weep round the tomb of him, whom all the virtuous loved, and whom the wicked dreaded ; whom aH his friends adored, and whom even his enemies admired* -^" Alas ! alas !" cried she, '' this was but a wretched attempt to play the heroine; already does my resolution fail me. Ah ! Hodoardo, I meant not what I said ! I love you, love you now, and must love you always, though Camilla may chide, and though my good uncle may hate me." — In a few days after this interview, she understood that an extraordinary altera- tion had taken place in Flodoardo's manner and appearance ; that he had withdrawn himself from all general society • 172 society ; and that when the solicitations of his intimate friends compelled him to appear in their circle, his spirits seemed evidently deprest by the weight of an unconquerable melancholy. This intelligence was like the stroke of a poignard to the feeling heart of Rosabella. She fled for shelter to the solitude of her chamber, there indulged her feelings without restraint, and lamented, with showers of repent- ant tears, her harsh treatment of Flo« doardo. The grief which preyed in secret on her soul, soon undermined her health. No one could relieve her sufferings, for no one knew the cause of her melan- choly, or the origin of her illness. No wonder then that Rosabella's. situation at length excited the most bitter anxiety in the bosom of her vene'rable uncle. 173 uncle. No wonder, too, that Flodoardo entirely withdrew himself from a world which was become odious to him, since Rosabella was to be seen in it no longer ; and that he devoted himself in solitude to the indulgence of a passion, which he had vainly endeavoured to subdue ; and which, in the impetuosity of its course, had already swallowed up every other wish, and every other sentiment. But let us for a moment turn from the sick chamber of Rosabella, and visit the dwellings of the conspirators, who were now advancing with rapid strides towards the execution of their plans ; and who, with every hour that past over their heads, became more numer- ous, more powerful, and more dangerous to Andreas and his beloved republic. Parozzi, Memmo, Co/itarino, and Falieri 174 Ralieri |^the chiefs of this desperate undertaking] now assembled frequently in the Cardinal Gonzaga's palace, where the different plans for altering the constitution of Venice were brou^t forward and discussed. But in all these different schemes it was evident that the proposer was solely actuated by considerations of private interest — ^The object of one was to get free from the burthen of enormous debts ; another was willing to sacrifice every thing to gratify his inordinate ambition; the cupidity of this man was excited by the treasures of Andreas and his friends ; while that was actuated by resentment of some fancied offence, a resentment which could only be quenched with the offender's blood. These execrable wretches, who aimed at nothing less than the total overthrow of Venice, or at least of her government, looked m iooked towards the completion of theft extravagant hopes with the greater confidence, since a new but necessary addition to^the ab-eady-existing taxes had put -the Venetian populace out of liumour with their rulers. -^Ttil* eh^gh'l^ both in adherents and in wealth, to realize their fearful projects; rich enough in bold, shrewd, desperate * men, whose minds(' were well adapted to the contrivance and execution of revolutionary projects ; they now looked down with contempt on the goqd old Doge, who as yet entertained no suspi- cion of the object of their nocturnal meetings. Still did they not dare to carry their projects into effect till some principal persons in the state should be prevented by death from throwing obstacles in their way. For the accomplishment •{•««' of tie of this part of their plan they f died on the daggers of the banditti. Dread- ful therefore was the sound in their ears when the bell gave the signal for execution, and they saw their best- founded hopes expire on the scaffold which supported the headless trunks of the four Bravos. But if their con- sternation was great at thus losing the destined instruments of their designs, how extravagant was their joy when the proud AbeDino dared openly to declare to Venice, that he still inhabited the republic, and that he still wore a dagger at the disposal of Vice. — " This desperado is the very man for us !" they exclaimed unanimously, and in rapture; and now their most ardent wish was to enroll Abellino in .their service. That object was soon attained-— they 177 they sought the daring ruiSan, and he suffered himself to be found. He visited their meetings, but in his pro- mises and demands he was equally extravagant. The first and most earnest wish of the whole conspiracy was the death of Conari, the Procurator *, a man whom the Doge valued beyond all others ; a man, whose eagle-eyes made the conspi- rators hourly tremble for their secret, and whose services the Doge had ac- cepted, in preference to those of the Cardinal Gonzaga. — But the sum which Abellino demanded for the murder of this one man was enormous. — " Give me the reward which I require," said he, " and I promise, on the word of a man of honour, that after this night the procurator Conari shall give you no further trouble. Exalt N him 178 him to heaven, or imprison him in hell, ril engage to find and stab him." What could they do ? Abellino was not a man to be easily beat down in his demands. The Cardinal was impatient to attain the summit of his wishes; but his road lay straight over Conari's grave ! Abellino received the sum demanded ; the next day the venerable Conari, the Doge's best and dearest friend, the pride and safeguard of the republic, was no longer numbered among the living* — ^*' 'Tis a terrible fellow, this Abel- lino !" cried the conspirators when the news reached them, and celebrated the Procurator's death in triumph at the Cardinal's midnight feast. The i^The Doge was almost distracted wit& terror and astonishment. He engaged to give ten thousand sequins to any oae who should discover by whom Conari had been removed froiiBi the world. A proclamation to this eflFect was published at the corner of every street in Venice, and made known thi'oughout the territories of the republic. A few days after this proclamation had been made, a paper was discovered affixed to the principal door of the Venetian Signoria. VENETIANS! You would fain know the author of Conari's death: to spare you much fruitless trouble, I hereby acknowledge, that I, Abellino, was his assassin. Twice did I bury my dagger in his heart, and then sent his body to feed fishes. The Doge promises ten thousand sequins to N 2 him 180 him who shall discover Conari's mur- derer ; and to him who shall be clever enough to seize him, Abellino hereby promises twenty —Adieu, Signers 3 I remain your faithful servant, ABELLINO. 181 \ CHAP. VI. The two greatest Men in Venice, It must be superfluous to inform my readers that all Venice became furious at this new insolence. Within the memory of man had no one ever treated with such derision the celebrated Venetian police, or set the Doge's power at defiance with such proud temerity. This occurrence threw the whole city into confusion ; every one was on the look out ; the patroles were doubled ; the sbirri extended their researches on all sides ; yet no one could see, or hear, or discover the most distant tracQ. of Abellino. The priests in their sermons strove to rouze the slumbering vengeance of N 3 Heaven 182 Heaven to crush this Insolent offender. The ladies were ready to swoon at the very name of AbelUno, for who could assure them that, at some unexpected moment, lie mi^it not pay t}>e7n the same compliment which he had paid to Rosabella? As for the old ^omen, they unanimously asserted, that Abellino had sold himself to the Prince of Dark- ness, by whose assistance he was enabled to spoit \<7ith the patience of all pious Venetians, and deride the impotence of their just indignation. The Cardinal and his associates were proud of their terrible confederate, and looked forward with confidence to the triumphant issue of their undertaking. - The deserted femily of Conari called dow^ curses on his murderer's head, and wished that their tears might be changed into a sea of sulphur, in whose waves they might plunge the monster Abellino : nor did Cpnm's jrelations feelmore grief for his • loss 183 loss than the Doge and his two confi- dents, who swore never to rest till they had discovered the lurking-place of the rutliless assassin, and had punished his crime with ten-fold vengeance. — " Yet, after all,*' said Andreas one evening, as he sat alone in his private chamber, " after all, it must be confest that this Abellino is a singular man He who can do what Abellino has done, must possess both such talents and such courage as [stood he at the head of an army] would enable him to conquer half the world ! — Would that I could once get a sight of him !" — — " Look up then V* roared Abellino, and clapped the Doge on the shoulder — Andreas started from his seat. A colossal figure stood before him, wrapt in a dark mantle, above wliich appeared a countenance so hideous and forbidding, 1^ 4 tliat 184 that the universe could not have pro- duced its equal. — " Who art thou ?" stammered out the Doge. ' — " Thou seest me, and canst doubt? Well then! I am Abellino^ the good friend of your murdered Conari, and the republic's most submissive slave." — The brave Andreas, who had never trembled in fight by land or by sea, and for whom no danger had possest terrors suiEcient to shake his undaunted resolu- tion, the brave Andreas now forgot for a few moments his usual presence of mind. Speechless did he gaze on the daring assassin, who stood before him calm and haughty, unappalled by the majesty of the greatest man in Venice. Abellino nodded to him with an air of 185 of familiar protection, and graciously condescended to grin upon liim with a kind of half-friendly smile. — ^^' Abellino," said the Doge, at length, endeavouring to recollect him- self, " thou art a fearful. ... a detestable man!'' — " Fearful ?" answered the Bravo ; *^ Dost thou think me so ? Good ! that glads me to my very heart! — Detestable? that may be so, or it may not. I confess the sign which I hang out gives no great promise of good entertainment \\ ithin ; but yet, Andreas, one thing is certain — You and I stand on the same line, for at this moment we are the two greatest men in Venice ; you in your way, / in mine." — The Doge could not help smiling at the Bravo 's familiar tone. — " Nay, 186 — " Nay, nay !*' continued Abellmo ; " no smiles of disbelief, if you please. Allow me, though a Bravo, to compare myself to a Doge ; truly I think there's no great presumption in placing myself on a level with a man, whom I hold in my power, and who therefore is in fact beneath me." — The Doge made a movement, ■d< would he have left him. — " Not so fast," said Abellino laugh- ing rudely, and he barred the Doge's passage. " Accident seldom unites in so small a space as this chamber a pair of such great men — Stay where you are, for I have not done with you yet : we must have a little conversation." — - — " Hear me, Abellino !" said the Doge, mustering up all the dignity v/xucli he possest ; " thoti hast received great 187 great talents from Nature : why dost tjiou employ them to so little advan- tage ? I here promise you, on my most sacred word, pardon for the past, and protection for the future, will you but name to me the villain who bribed you to assassinate Conari, abjure your bloody trade, and accept an honest employ- ment in the service of the republic. If this offer is rejected, at least quit with all speed the territory of Venice, or I swear. . " — C( " Ho! ho!" interrupted Abellino; pardon and protection^ say you ? It is long since I tht)uglit it worth my while to care for such trifles — Abellino is able to protect himself without foreign aid ; and as to pardon, mortals cannot give absolution for sins like mine. On that day when iill men must give in the list of their offences, then too will / give in 188 miney but till then never — You would know the name of him who bribed me to be Conari's murderer ? Well, well ; you shall know it. . . . but not to-day. — I must quit with ail speed the Venetian territory ? and wherefore ? through fear of thee ? ^ Ho ! Iio ! through fear of Venice ? Ha ! Abcllino fears not Venice ; 'tis Venice that fears Abellino ! — Yo« would have me abjure my profession ? — ■ Well> Andreas, there is one condition, which perhaps " — — ^' Name it !" cried the Doge ea- gerly ; " will ten thousand sequins pur- chase your departure from the repub- he ?'*— — " I would gladly give you twice as much myself, could \x)u recall the insult of offering Abellino so miserable a bribe! — NOj Andrcas, but one price can pay me : 189 ^e : give me your niece for my bride ; I love Rosabella, the daughter of Guis- card of Corfu.''* — — " Monster ! — ^vvhat insolence. . " '- — ^' Ho ! ho ! — Patience, patience, good uncle that is to be ! Will you accept my terms ?" — — " Name what sum can satisfy you, and it shall be yours this instant, so you will only relieve Venice from your pre- sence. Though it should cost the re- public a million she will be a gainer, if her air is no longer poisoned by your breath."— — " Indeed ? — Why in fact a million is not so great a sum ; for, look ye, An- dreas, I have just sold for near half a million the lives of your two dear friends, Manfrone and Lomellino. — Now 190 Niow give me glosabella, and I break the bargain." — — " Miscreant! Has Heaven no lightnings '* — — " You will not ? — Mark me ! In four-and-twenty hours shall Manfrone and Lomellino be food for fishes Abellino has said it ! — Away !'' And with these words he drew a pis- tol from under his cloak, and flashed it in the Doge^s face — Bhnded by the powder, and confused by the unexr pected explosion, Andreas started back, and sank bewildered on a neighbouring sofa — He soon recovered from his asto- nishment ; he sprang from his seat to summon his guards, and seize Abellino But Abeffino had already disap- peared. On 191 On that same evening were Parozzi and his confederates assembled in the palace of the Cardinal Gonzaga. The table was spread with the most luxu- rious profusion, and they arranged over their flowing goblets plans for the re- public's ruin — The Cardinal related how he had of late contrived to insinuate himself into the Doge's good graces, and had succeeded in impressing him with an opinion that the chiefs of the confederacy were fit men to hold offices of important trust. Contarino boasted that he doubted not before Ions: to be appointed to the vacant Procuratorship. Parozzi reckoned, for his share, upon Rosibeila's hand, and the place either of Lomellino or Manfrone, when once thos'e two chief obstacles to his hopes should be removed. Such was the conversation in which they were engaged, when the clock struck twelve, the doors flew wide, and Abellino stood before them ! — ^< Wine 192 i__" Wine there!'* cried he 5 " the work is done — Manfrone and Lomellino are at supper with the worms." — All sprang from their seats in rapture and astonishment* — " And I have thrown the Doge himself into such a fit of terror, that I warrant you he will not recover himself easily. — Now answer ; are you content with me, you blood-hounds ?"-— — " Next then for Flodoardo !'* shouted Parozzi. — " Flodoardo ?'* muttered Abellino .between his teeth ; " hum ! hum I — - that's not so easy." End of Bcok the Second* BOOK THE THIRD. CHAP. 1. The Lovers, Rosabella, the idol of all Venice^ lay on the bed of sickness ; a sorrow, whose cause was carefully concealed from every one, undermined her health, and destroyed the bloom of her beauty. She loved the noble Flodoardo; and who could have known Flodoardo and not have loved him ?— His majestic sta- ture, his expressive countenance, his en- thusiastic glance, his whole being de- clared aloud — " Flodoardo is Nature's favourite !" — and Rosabella had been always a great admirer of Nature. o But 194 But if Rosabella was ill, Flodoardo was scarcely better. He confined him- self to his own apartment ; he shunned society, and frequently made long jour- nies to different cities of the republic, in hopes of distracting his thoughts by- change of place from that object, which, wherever he went, still pursued him. He had now been absent for three whole weeks. No one knew in what quarter he was wandering ; and it was during this absence that the so long expected Prince of Monaldeschi arrived at Venice,'' to claim Rosabella as his bride. His appearance, to which a month be- fore Andreas looked forw^ard with such pleasing expectation, now afforded but little satisfaction to the Doge. Rosa- bella was too ill to receive her suitor's visits^ and he did not allow her much time to ^ recover her health ; for six days after his arrival at Venice, the :'^* Prince 195 Prince was found murdered in a retired part of one of the public gardens. His' sword lay by him unsheathed and bloody ; his tablets were gone, but one leaf had been torn from them and fastened on his breast — It was examined^ and found to contain the following lines apparently written in blodd : — ^^ Let no one pretend to Rosabella's hand who is not prepared to share the fat^ of Monaldeschi ! ^The Brava ' — ** Oh'r whefe sh^ i now fly for comfort ! for protection !*' exclaimed the Doge in despair, when this dreadful news was announced — " Why, why i^ Flodoardo absent ?" — Anxiously did he now desire tht youth's return, to support him under the t^^eight of these heavy misfortunes ^ nor o 2 was 196 was it long before that desire was grati- fied — ^Flodoardo returned. — " Welcome, noble youth !" said the Doge, when he saw the Florentine enter his apartment ; " you must not in future deprive me of your presence for so long. I am now a poor forsaken old man — ^You have heard that Lomellino • . . . that Manfrone, . . . " — — " I know all!" answered Flodo- ardo with a melancholy air. — " Satan has burst his chains, and now inhabits Venice under the name of Abellino, robbing me of all that my soul holds precious. Flodoardo, for heaven's love be cautious ; often, during your ab- sence, have I trembled lest the miscre- ant's dagger should have deprived me too of you. I have much to say to you, my young friend, but I must defer it till the 197 the evening ; a foreigner of consequence has appointed this hour for an audience, and I must hasten to receive him — But in the evening " He was interrupted by the appearance of Rosabella, who, with tottering steps and pale cheeks, advanced slowly into the apartment. She saw Flodoardo, and a faint blush overspread her coun- tenance. Flodoardo rose from his seat, and welcomed her with an air of distant respect. — " Do not go yet," said the Doge j " perhaps in half an hour I may be at liberty — In the mean while I leave you to entertain my poor Rosabella : she has been very ill during your absence, and I am still uneasy about her health. She kept her bed till yesterday, and truly I think she has still left it too soon." — o 3 The 198 The veni&rable Doge quitted the apkit- fnent, and the lovers once more found themselves alone. Rosabella drew nea^* the window ; Flodoardo at length ven- tured to approach it also. — " Signora," said he, " are you stiM 'angry with me ?" — - ' - -a-i.« J am not angry with you," stam- cmered out Rosabella, and blushed as she recollected the garden-scene. — " And you have quite forgiven my transgression?" — ' — ^' Your transgression r" repeated Rosabella with a faint smile; " yes; if it %vas a transgression, I have quite forgiven it. Dying people ought to pardon those v/ho have trespassed against them, in order th:^t they, in their turn, may be pardoned 1^9 pardoned their trespasses against Hea- ven — and / am dying ; I feel it !" Signora I". — " Nay, 'tis past a doubt — It's true I have quitted my sick bed since yester- day ; but I know well that I am soon to return to it, never to leave it more.-^ Aod therefore . . . , therefore I now ask your pardon, Signor, for the vexation which I was obliged to cause to you the last time we met." — Flodoardo replied not. — " Will you not forgive me ? — You musl: be very diiEcult to appease very revengeful !" — Flodoardo fixed his eyes on her coun- tenance with a melancholy smile — Ro- - o 4 sabcUa 200 sabella extended her hand, towards him — ' — " Will you refuse my offered hand ? Shall all be forgotten ?'' — — " Forgotten, Lady ? Never ! ne- ver ! — Every word and look of yours is stamped on my memory, never to be effaced. I cannot forget a transaction in which you bore a part ; I cannot for- get the scene that past between us, every circumstance is too precious and sacred. — ^As to pardorC\ . . . — He took her ex- tended hand, and prest it respectfully to his lips — " I would to Heaven, dear Lady, that you had in truth injured me much, that I might have much to for- give you — Alas ! I have at present no- thing to pardon." — Both were now silent 5 at length Ro- sabella 201 sabella resumed the conversation by say- ing — " You have made a long absence from Venice ; did you travel far ?" — " I did."— ' — " And received much pleasure from your journey ?" — — ^' Much ; for every where I heard the praises of Rosabella." — — " Count Flodoardo!" — she inter- rupted him with a look of reprehension, but in a gentle voice, " would you again offend me ?" — — " That will soon be out of my power — ^Perhaps you can guess what are my present intentions." — — ." To resume your travels soon ?"-r — ** Exactly ^ 202 ' — *^ Exactly so ; and the next time that I quit Venice, to return to it no more.'* — — " No more ?'^ she repeated eagerly; ^^ Oh ! not so, Flodoardo ! Ah ! can you leave me?" — She stopped, ashamed of her imprudence — " Can you leave my uncle, I meant to say ? You do but jest, I doubt not." — — " By my honour. Lady, I never was more in earnest. — " And whither then do you mean to go ?" — — *^ To Malta, and assist the knights In their attacks upon the Corsairs of Barbary. Providence perhaps may en- able me to obtain the command of a galley ; then will I call my vessel ' Ro- sabella ;' — then shall the war-cry be still ' Rosa- 203 ^ Rosabella ;* that name will render m« invincible T* — « Ob ! this is mockery, Count ; I have not deserved that you should sport with my feelings so cruelly." — — " It is to spare your feelings, Sig- nora, that I am now resolved to fly from Venice ; my presence might cause you some uneasy moments. I am not the happy man whose sight is destined to give you pleasure ; I will at least avoid giving you pain." — — ^' And you really can resolve to abandon the Doge, whose esteem for you is so sincere, whose friendship has always been so warm ?" — — " I value his friendship highly ; but it is not sufficient to make me happy —and could he lay kingdoms at my feet, 204 feet, still would his friendship be insuf- ficient to make me happy."— r — ^' Does then your happiness re- quire so much ?" — — ^^ It does ; much more than I have mentioned, infinitely more ! — But one boon can make me happy — ■! have begged for it on my knees." — He caugh^ her hand, and prest it eagerly to his lips — ^' I have begged for it, Rosabella, .... and my suit has been rejected !" — — " You are a strange enthusiast !'* she said with difficulty, and scarcely knew what she said; while Flodoardo drew her gently nearer to him, and murmured in a suppplicating voice — : " Rosabella !" ^!|. What would you of me V^ — — ^^ My 205 < — " My happiness !" — She gazed upon him for a moment undecided, then hastily drew away her hand, and exclaimed — *' Leave me thb moment, I command you ! Leave me, for Heaven's sake!" — Flodoardo clasped his hands together in despair and anguish — he bowed his head in token of obedience ; he left her with slow steps ; and a melancholy air, and as he past the threshold, turned to bid her farewell for ever. Suddenly she rushed towards him, caught his hand, and prest it to her heart. Flodoardo !" she cried, " I am thine!" and sank motionless at his feet. 206 CHAP. 11. A dangerous Promise, And now who was so blest as the fortunate Flodoardo ? The victory was his own ; he had heard the wished-for sentence pronounced by the lips of Rosabella — He raised her from the ground, and placed her on a sopha — Her blue eyes soon unclosed themselves once more, and the first object which they beheld was Flodoardo kneeling at her feet, while with one arm he encir- cled her waist. Her head sank upon the shoulder of the man for whom she had wept so many tears, for whom she had breathed so many sighs, who had occupied so many of her thoughts by day. 207 day, vl^ho had been present in so many of her dreams by night. As they gazed in silent rapture on each other, they forgot that they were mortals : they seemed to be transported to an happier, better world. Rosabella thought that the chamber in which she sat was transformed into an earthly Paradise; invisible seraphs seemed to hallow by their protecting presence the indulgence of her innocent aiFection; and she poured forth her secret thanks to Him who had gi^^en her an heart susceptible of love. Through the whole course of man's existence such a moment as this occurs but once. Happy is he who sighs for its arrival ; happy is he who when it arrives has a soul Worthy of its enjoy- ment ; happy is even he for whom that moment has long been past, so it past not SOS not unenjoyed, for the recollection of it still is precious. Sage philosophers, in vain do you assure us that the raptures of a moment like this are mere illusions of an heated imagination, scarcely more solid than an enchanting dream, which fades before the sunbeams of truth and reason. Alasl does there exist an happiness under the moon which owes not its charms in some degree to the magic of imagination. — " You are dear to me, Flodoardo !'* murmured Rosabella, for Camilla and her counsels were quite forgotten; '' oh ! you are very, very dear !"— * The youth only thanked her by clasping her still closer to his bosom, •while, for the first time, he sealed her coral lips with his own. At that moment the door was sud- denly 209 denly thrown open, the Doge Andreas re-entered the apartment ; the expected stranger had been suddenly taken ill, and Andreas was no sooner at liberty than he hastened to rejoin his favourite. The rustling of his garments rouzed the lovers from their dream of bliss. Rosabella started from Flodoardo's embrace with a cry of terror ; Flodoardo quitted his kneeling posture, yet seemed by no means disconcerted at the dis- covery. Andreas gazed upon them for some minutes, with a look which exprest at once anger, melancholy, and the most heart-felt disappointment. He sighed deeply, cast his eyes towards Heaven, and in silence turned to leave the apartment. — ^^ Stay yet one moment, noble Andreas/* cried the Florentine. p The 210 •riie Doge turned, and Flodoardp threw himself at his feet. Andreas looked down with cahn and serious dignity on. the kneeling offender, by whom his friendship had been so un- worthily rewarded, and by whom hi$ confidence had been so cruelly betrayed. • — " Young man," said he in a stern voice, " the attempt to excuse you-'self must be fruitless." — — " Excuse myself!" interrupted Flodoardo boldly ; " no, my Lord, I need no excuses for loving Rosabella j \were for him to excuse himself who had seen Rosabella, and not loved her — yet if it is indeed a crime in me that I adore Rosabella. . . . 'tis a crime of which Heaven itself will absolve me, since it formed Rosabella so worthy to be , adored !"~ a •You 211 -— " You seem to lay too much stress on this fantastic apology,'* answered the Doge contemptuously; " at least ^ you cannot expect that it should have^ much weight with me." — — " I say it once more, my Lord/' resumed Flodoardo, while he rose from' the ground, " that I intend to make no apology. I mean nyt to excuse my love for Rosabella, but to request your approbation of that love — Andreas, I adore your niece ; I demand her for my bride."— The Doge started in astonishment at this bold and unexpected request. — " It is true," continued the Flo- rentine, " I am no more than a needy, unknown youth, and it seems a piece of strange temerity when such a man proposes himself to espouse the heiress p 2 of 212 of the Venetian Doge. But, by Heaven, I am confident tliat the great Andreas, means not to bestow his Rosabella on one of those whose clahns to favour are overflowing coffers, extensive territories, and sounding titles, or who vainly deco- rate their insignificance with the glory obtained by their ancestors ; glory of which they are themselves incapable of acquiring a single ray. I acknowledge fneely that I have as yet performed no actions which make me deserving such a reward as Rosabella ; but it shall not be long ere I will perform such actions, or perish in the attempt." — The Doge turned from him with a look of displeasure. . — " Oh ! be not incensed with hhn, dear uncle !" said Rosabella : she hast- ened to detain the Doge, threw her white arms round his neck fondly, and[ 213 and concealed in his bosom the tears with which her countenance was be- dewed. — " Make your demands !" continued Flodoardo, still addressing himself to the Doge ; " say what you wish me to do, and what you would have me become, in order to obtain from you the hand of Rosabella. Ask what you will, I will look on the task, however difficult, as nothing more than sport and pastime. By Heaven, I would that Venice \vere at this moment exposed to the most imminent danger, and that ten thousand daggers were unsheathed against your life ; Rosabella my reward, how certain should I be to rescue Venice, and strike the ten thousand daggers down." — — " I have served the republic faith- fully and fervently for many a long year,'^ answered Andreas with a bitter p 8 smile ; 214 smile ; " I have risqued my life without hesitation ; I have shed my blood with profusion ; I asked nothing for my reward but to pass my old age in soft tranquillity, and of this reward have I been cheated. My bosom-friends, the companions of my youth, the confidents of my age, have been torn from me by the daggers of banditti — and you, Flo- doardo, you on whom I heaped all favours, have now deprived me of this my only last remaining comfort. — Answer me, Rosabella; hast thou in truth byestowed thy heart on Flodoardo tf^revocably /*" .h-J One hand of Rosabella's still rested' on her uncle's shoulder ; with the other she clasped Flodoardo's, and prest it fondly against her heart — Yet Flodoardo seemed still unsatisfied. No sooner had the Doge's question struck his ear, than his countenance became dejected ; and t^ ' ^ '- p 4 though 215 fhouorli his hand returned the pressure of Rosabella's, he shook his head mourn- fully, with an aif of doubt, and cast on her a penetrating look, as would he have read the secrets of her inmost soul. Andreas withdrew himself gently from Rosabella's arm, and for some time paced the apartment slowly, with ^a countenance sad and earnest. Rosabella sank upon a sopha which stood near her, and wept. Flodoardo eyed the Doge, and waited for his decision with impatience. ■ Thus past some minutes. An awful silence reigned through the chamber ; Andreas seemed to be labouring with some resolution of dreadful importance. The lovers wished, yet dreaded, the conclusion of the scene, and with every moment their anxiety became more painful. p 4 — " Flo- ^16 — " Flodoardo !" at length said the Doge, and suddenly stood still in the middle of the chamber. Flodoardo ad- vanced with a respectful air — " Young man," he continued, " I am at length resolved ; Rosabella loves you, nor will I oppose the decision of her heart ; but Rosabella is much too precious to admit of my bestowing her on the first who thinks fit to demand her — the man to whom I give her, must be worthy such a gift : she must be the reward of- his services, nor can he do services so great that such a reward will not overpay them. — Your claims on the republic's gratitude are as yet but trifling ; an op- portunity now offers of rendering us an essential service — ^The murderer of Co- nari, Manfrone, and Lomellino. . . . Go, bring him hither !• — Alive or dead, thou must bring to this palace the terrible banditti-king, Abellino r — At 217 At this unexpected conclusion of a speech, on which his happiness or de- spair depended, Flodoardo started back; the colour fled from his cheeks. — " My noble Lord!'' he said at length hesitating; " you know weH that ''— — " I know well," interrupted An- dreas, " how difficult a task I enjoin, when I require the delivery of Abellino. For myself 1 swear, that I had rather a thousand times force my passage with a single vessel through the v/hole Turkish fleet, and carry off the admiral's ship from the midst of them, than attempt to seize this Abellino, who seems to have entered into a compact with Lucifer himself: who is to be found every where and no where ; whom so many have seen, but whom no one knows ; whose 218 whose! 'cautibu^ snBtilety has brotlght' to shame the vigilance of our State-inqui- sitors, of the College of Ten, and of all their legions of spies and sbirri ; whose very name strikes terror into the hearts of the bravest Venetians, and from whose dagger I myself am not safe upon my throne ! — I know well, Flodoardo, how much I ask; but I know also how much I proffer.— You seem irresolute ? — You are silent ?— Flodoardo, I have long watched' you with attention ; ' I have discovered in you marks of a superior genius, atid tlierefore I am induced to ihake such a demand. If any one is able to cope with Abellino, thou art the man 1 wait your answer." — Flodoardo paced the chamber in silence. Dreadful was the enterprize proposed : woe to him should Abellino discover his purpose ! — But Rosabella was 219 was the reward ! He cast a look on the beloved-one, and resolved to risque every thing. He advanced towards the Doge. Andreas — ^Now then, Flodoardo ? Your resolution ? Flodoardo — Should I deliver Abelli- no into your power, do you solemnly swear that Rosabella shall be my bride ? Andreas — She shall! and not till then. Rosabella — Ah ! Flodoardo, I fear this undertaking will end fatally. Abellino is so crafty. ... so dreadful Oh ! look well to yourself, for should you meet with this detested monster, whose dagger Flo- 220 Flodoardo — [interrupting her hastily] — Oh! silence, Rosabella! — at least al- low me to hope !— Noble Andreas, give me your hand, and pledge your princely word that Abeliino once i n your power, nothing shall prevent me from being Rosabella's husband. Andreas — ^I swear it ; deliver into my power, either alive or dead, this most dangerous foe of Venice, and nothing shall prevent Rosabella from being your wife. In pledge of which I here give you my princely hand. Flodoardo grasped the Doge's hand in silence, and shook it thrice. He turned to Rosabella, and seemed on the point of addressing her, when he sud- denly turned away, struck his forehead, and measured the apartment with dis- ordered and unsteady steps. The clock 1 in 221 in the tower of St. Mark's church struck five. ^^ Time flies !" cried Flodoardo \ " no more delay then. In four-and- twenty hours will I produce in this very palace this dreaded bravo, Abellino." — Andreas shook his head — " Young man," said he, " be less confident in your promises ; I shall have more faith in your performance." Flodoardo — [serious and firm] — Let things terminate as they may, either I will keep my word, or never again wiU cross the threshold of your palace — ^I have discovered some traces of the mis- creant, and I trust that I shall amuse you to-morrow, at this time and in this place, with the representation of a comedy ; but should it prove a tragedy instead, God's will be done. Andreas — 222 Andreas— Remember, that too much haste is dangerous ; rashness will destroy- even the frail hopes of success, which you may reasonably indulge at present. Flodoardo— Rashness, my Lord ? He who has lived as / have lived, and suf- fered what / have suffered, must have been long since cured of rashness. ' Rosabella — [taking his hand] — Yet be not too confident of your own strength, 1 beseech you ! Dear Flodo- ardo, my uncle loves you, and his ladvice is wise ! Beware of Abelliho's dagger ! Flodoardo — The best way to escape his dagger is not to allow him time to vise it: within four-and-twenty hours must the deed be done, or never. — Now then, illustrious Prince, I take my leave of you j to-morrow I doubt not to 223 to convince you tliat nothing is too much for love to venture. Andreas — Right ; to venture ; — ttut to atchieve P Kodoardo— rAh! ' that must depend — He . paused suddenly ; again: his ^yes were fastened eagerly on those of Rosabella; and it was evident that with every moment his uneasiness acquired fresh strength — He resumed his discourse to Andi'eas, with a move- ment of impatience. — " Noble Andreas/' said he, " do not make me dispirited.'; — rather let me try vv^hethcr^I cannot 'inspire you with more confidence of my success. I must first request you to order a splendid entertainment to be prepared. At this hour in the afternoon of to-morrow let xne find all the principal persons ia Venice, 224 Venice, both men and women, assembled in this chamber ; for should my hopes be realized, I would willingly have spectators of my triumph. Particularly, let the venerable members of the College of Ten be invited, in order that they may at last be brought face to face with this terrible Abeliino, against whom they have so long been engaged in fruitless warfare. Andreas — [after eyeing him som« time with a look of mingled surprize and uncertainty] — ^They shall be pre- sent. Flodoardo — I understand also, that since Conari's death you have been reconciled to the CardinsJGonzaga ; and that he has convinced you how unjust were the prejudices with which Conari had inspired you against the nobili Parozzi, Contarino, and the rest of that society — ^25 society — During my late excursions I have heard much in praise of these young men, which makes me wish to show myself to them in a favourable light — If you have no objection, let me beg you to invite them also. Andreas — You shall be gratified. Flodoardo — One thing more, which had nearly escaped my memory. — Let no one know the motive of this enter- tainment, till the whole company is assembled. Then let guards be placed around the palace, and indeed it may be as well to place them even before the doors of the saloon ; for in truth this Abellino is such a desperate villain, that too many precautions cannot be taken against him. The centinels must have their pieces loaded; and, above all things, they must be strictly charged, on pain e of 226 of death, to let every one enter ^ but no one (luit the chamber. Andreas — All tliis shall be done punctually. Flodoardo — ^I have nothing more to say — ^Noble Andreas, farewell.— Rosa- bella. . . . To-morrow, when the clock strikes Jive^ we shall meet again, or never F^ He said, and rushed out of the apart- ment — Andreas shook his head 3 while Rosabella sunk upon her uncle's bosom, and wept bitterly. 227 CHAP. III. The midnight meeting. "Victory!" shouted Parozzi as he rushed into the Cardinal Gonzaga's chamber, where the chief conspirators were all assembled ; " our work goes on bravely ! Flodoardo returned this morning to Venice, and Abellino has already received the required sum." Gonzaga — Flodoardo does not want talents ; I had rather he should live and join our party. He is seldom oflf his guard . . . Parozzi — Such vagabonds may well be cautious j they must not forget them- Q 2 selves 228 selves who have so much to conceal from others. Falieri — Rosabella, as I understand, by no means sees this Florentine with unfavourable eyes. Parozzi — Oh! wait till to-morrow, and then he may make love to the devil and his grandmother, if he likes it — ^ Abellino by that time will have wrung his neck round, I warrant you ! Contarino — It is strange, that in spite of all enquiries I can learn but Uttle at Florence respecting this Flodoardo. My letters inform me that some time ago there did exist a family of that name ; but it has been long extinct, or if any of its descendants are still in being at Florence, their existence is quite a secret. Gon- 229 ' Gonzaga — Are you all invited to the Doge's to-morrow ? Contarino — All of us without ex; ception. Gonzaga- — That is well ; it seems that my recommendations have obtained some weight with him, since his trium- virate has been removed — And in the evening a masked ball is to be given ; did not the Doge's Chamberlain say so ? Falieri — He did. Memmo — I only hope there is no trick in all this — If he should have been given an hint of our conspiracy Mercy on us, my teeth chatter at the thought. Gonzaga — Absurd ! By what means Q 3 should 230 should our designs have been ifiade known to him ? The thing is impos- sible ! Memmo — ^Impossible ? What ! when there's scarce a cut-purse, house-breaker, or vagabond in Venice who has not been enlisted in our service, would it be so strange if the Doge discovered a Kttle of the business? A secret which is known to so many, how should it escape his penetration ? Contarino Simpleton ? the same thing happens to him, which happens to betrayed husbands : every one can see the horns except the man who carries them. And yet I confess it is full time that we should realize our projects, and prevent the possibility of our being betrayed, Falieri — You are right, friend 5 every thing 231 thing is ready, and now the sooner that the blow is struck the better. Parozzi — Nay, the discontented po- pulace, which at present sides with us, would be perfectly well pleased if the sport began this very night ; delay the .business longer, and their anger against Andreas will cool, and render them unfit for our purposes. Contarino — Then let us decide the game at once ; be to-morrow the impor- tant day! Leave the Doge to my disposal; ril at least engage to bury my poignard in his heart, and then let the business end as it may, one of two things must happen : either we shall rescue ourselves from all trouble and vexation, by throw- ing every thing into uproar and confu- sion, or else we shall sail with a full wind from this cursed world to another. Q 4 Parozzi — 232 Parozzi — ^Mark me, friends ; we must go armed to the Doge's entertain- ment. Gonzaga— All the members of the CoUege of Ten have been particularly- invited. . . , Falieri — ^Down with every man of them! Memmo— Aye, aye! Fine talking! but suppose it should turn out to be ^' down with ourselves V^ — Falieri — ^Thou white-livered wretch! Stay at home then, and take care of your worthless existence — But if our attempt succeeds, come not to us to re-imburse you for the 5ums which you have already advanced. Not a sequin shall be paid you back, depend on't. Memmo 23S Memmo — You wrong me, Falieri; If you wish to prove my courage, draw your sword, and measure it against mine ! I am as brave as yourself j but, thank heaven, I am not quite so hot- headed. Gonzaga — Nay, even suppose that the event should not answer our expecta- tions ; Andreas once dead, let the popu- lace storm if it pleases ; the protection of his Holiness will sanction our pro- ceedings. Memmo — The Pope ? May we count pn his protection ? Gonzaga — [throwing him a letter] — Read there, unbeliever! — The Pope, I tell you, must protect us, since one of our objects is profest to be the assertion of the rights of St. Peter's Chair in Ve- nice, Pry'thee, Memmo, teaze us no more 234 triore with such doubts, but let Cdfita- rino's proposal be adopted at once. Ouf confederates must be summolied to Pa- rozzi's palace with all diligence, and there furnished with such weapons as are necessary. Let the stroke of mid- night be the signal for Contarino's quitting the ball-room, and hastening to seize' the arsenal: Salviati, who com- mands there, is in our ititerests, and will throw open the gates at the first summons. Falieri — ^The Admiral Adorno, as soon as he hears the alarm-bell, will immediately lead his people to our as- sistance. Parozzi— Oh ! our success is certain ! Contarino — Only let us take care to make the confusion as general as possi- ble 5 our adversaries must be kept in the dark 235 dark who are their frieiids and who their foes; and all but our own party must be left ignorant as to the authors, the origin, and the object of the up- roar. -31 s rin .V r Parozzi-^By heaven, I am delighted at finding the business at length so near tibe .moment of execution ! Falieri — Parozzi, have you distributed the white ribands, by which we are to rocognize our partizans ? Parozfei— That was don^ some days ago. Contarino — ^Then there is no more necessary to be said on the subject. Comrades, fill your goblets ! We will not meet again together till our work has be^n <^tnpleted. Memmo 2S6 Memmo-— And yet methinks it would not be unwise . to consider the matter over again coolly. Contarino — ^Psha! consideration and prudence have nothing to do with a re- bellion: despair and rashness in this case are better counsellors. The work once begun, the constitution of Venice once boldly overturned, so that no one can tell who is master and who is subject, t/jen consideration will be of service in instructing us how far it may be neces- sary for our interests to push the confu- sion. — Come, friends ! fill, fill, I say !■ — I cannot help laughing when I reflect that, by giving this entertainment to- morrow, the Doge himself kindly afford^ us an opportunity of executing our plans ! Parozzi — As to Flodoardo, I look upon 237 upon him as already in his grave ; yet before wc go to-morrow to the Doge's, it will be as well to have a conference with Abellino. Contarino — That care we will leave to you, Parozzi, and in the mean while here's the health of Abellino ! All— Abellino ! Gonzaga — And success to our enter- prize to-morrow. Memmo— rU drink that toast with all my heart. All — S^iccess to to-morrow's enter- prize ! Parozzi — ^The wine tastes well, and every face looks gay — ^Pass eight-and- forty 3^8 forty hours and shall we look as gaily ? — We separate smiling ; shall we smile when two nights hence we meet again ? — ^No matter ! ta«Ht^ ^ ^;>A x^ 239 CHAP. IV. The decisive day. , The next morning every thing in Ve- vke seemed as tranquil as if nothing more than ordinary was on the point of taking place; and yet since her first foundation, never had a more important day rose on the republic. The inhabitants of the ducal palace were in motion early. The impatient Andreas forsook the couch on which he had past a sleepless and anxious night, as soon as the first sunbeams penetrated through the lattice of his chamber. Rosabella had employed the hours of rest in dreams of Flodoardo, and she still seamed to be dreaming of him, even after 240 after sleep was fled. Camilla's love for her fair pupil had broken her repose ; she loved Rosabella as had she been her daughter, and was aware that on this interesting day depended the love-sick girl's whole future happiness. For some time Rosabella was unusually gay ; she sang to her harp the most lively airs, and jested with Camilla for looking so serious and so uneasy : but when mid- day approached, her spirits began to for- sake her. She quitted her instrument, and paced the chamber with unsteady steps. With every succeeding hour her heart palpitated with greater pain and violence, and she trembled in expecta* tion of the scene which was soon to take place. The most illustrious persons In Venice already filled her uncle's palace ; the afternoon so much dreaded, and yet so much desired, was come j and the Doge now 241 now desired Camilla to conduct his niece to the great saloon, where she was ex- pected with impatience by all those who were of most consequence in the re- public. Rosabella sank on her knees before a statue of the Virgin. — " Blessed Lady !" she exclaimed with lifted hands, " have mercy on me ! Let all to-day end weU !"-^- Pale as death did she enter the cham- ber, in which, on the day before, she had acknowledged her love for Hodoardo, and Flodoardo had sworn to risque his life to obtain her. — Flodoardo was not yet arrived. The assembly was brilliant, the con- versation was gay. They talked over the politics of the day, and discussed the various occurrences of Europe. R The 242 The Cardinal and Contarino were en- gaged in a conference with the Doge, while Memmo, Parozzi, and Falieri stood silent together, and revolved the project whose execution was to take place at midnight. The weather was dark and tempestu- ous. The wind roared among the waters of the canal, and the vanes of the palace- towers creaked shrilly and discordantly. One storm of rain followed hard upon another. The clock struck four. The cheeks of Rosabella, if possible, became paler than before. Andreas whispered some- what to his chamberlain. In a few mi- nutes the tread of armed men seemed approaching the doors of the saloon, and soon after the clattering of weapons was heard. Instantly 243 Instantly a sudden silence reigned through the whole assembly. The young courtiers broke off their love- speeches abruptly, and the ladies stop- ped in their criticisms upon the last new fashions. The statesmen dropped their political discussions, and gazed on each other in silence and anxiety. The Doge advanced slowly into the midst of the assembly. Every eye was fixed upon him. The hearts of the con- spirators beat painfully. — " Be not surprised, my friends,** said Andreas, " at these unusual pre- cautions ; they relate to nothing which need interfere with the pleasures of this society. You have all heard but too much of the Bravo Abellino, the mur- derer of the procurator Conari, and of my faithful counsellors Manfrone and Lomellino, and to whose dagger my iU R 2 lustrious 244 iustrious guest the Prince of Monaldes- chi has but lately fallen a victim. This miscreant, the object of aversion to every honest man in Venice, to whom nothing is sacred or venerable, and who has hitherto set at defiance the whole vengeance of the republic. . . . before another hour expires, perhaps this out- cast of hell may stand before you in this very saloon. All — [astonished] — Abellino ? — What ? the bravo Abellino ? Gonzaga — Of his own accord ? Andreas — No ; not of his own ac- cord, in truth ; but Flodoardo of Flo- rence has undertaken to render this im- portant service to the republic, to seize Abellino, cost what it may, and conduct him hither at the risque of his life. ASe- 245 A Senator— The engagement will be diftlcult to fulfil ! I doubt much Flodo- ardo's keeping his promise. Another — But if he should perform it, the obligation which Flodoardo will lay upon the republic will not be tri- fling. A third— Nay, we shall be all his debtors, nor do I know how we can re- ward Rodoardo for so important a ser.r vice. Andreas — Be that my task. Flodo- ardo has demanded my niece in marri- age ; if he performs his promise, Rosa- bella Shall be his reward. All gazed on each other in silence, some with looks expressing the most heart-felt satisfaction, and others with glances of envy and surprize. R 3 Falieri 246 Falleri — [In a low voice] — ^Parozzi, how will this end ? Memmo — As I live, the very idea makes me shake as if I had a fever ! Parozzi — [smiling contemptuously] —-It's very Jikely that Abellino should suffer himself to be caught ! Contarino — Pray inform me, SIgnors, have any of you ever met this Abellino face to face ? Several Noblemen at once — ^Not I! never ! A Senator— He is a kind of spectre, who only appears now and then, when he is least expected and desired. Rosabella— I saw him once ! — ^Never again shall I forget the monster ! Andreas M7 Andreas — And my interview with him is too well known to make it need- ful for me to relate it Memmo — I have heard a thousand stories about this miscreant, the one more wonderful than the other; and for my own part, I verily believe that he is Satan himself in a human form. I must say, that I think it would be wiser not to let him be brought in among us, for he is capable of strangling us all as v/e stand here, one after another, without mercy ! — — " Gracious heaven 1" screamed se- veral of the ladies ; " you don't say so ? What! strangle us in this very cham* ber ?" Contarino— The principal point is> whether Flodoardo will get the better of him^ or he of Flodoardo : now I would R 4 lay 248 lay a heavy wager, that the Florentine will return without having finished the business. A Senator — And /would engage, on the contrary, that there is but one man in Venice who is capable of seizing Abellino, and that that man is Flodoardo of Florence. The moment that I be- came acquainted with him, I prophecied that one day or "other he would play a brilliant part in the annals of hisr tory. Another Senator— I think with you, Signor; never was I so much struck with a man at first sight as I was with Flodoardo. Contarino — A thousand sequins On Abellino's not being taken . , ; . unless death should have taken him first. The 249 The First Senator — A thousand se- quins on Flodoardo seizing him. . . . Andreas — And delivering him up to me, either alive or dead. Contai'ino — Illustrious Signors, you are witnesses of the wager — My Lord Vitalba, there is _my hand on it — A thousand sequins ! The Senator — ^Done ! Contarino — [smiling] — Many thanks for your gold, Signor : I look on it as already in my purse. Flodoardo is a clever gentleman, no doubt; yet I would advise him to take good care of him- self, for he will find that Abellino knows a trick or two, or I am much mistaken. Gonzaga — May I request your High- ness 250 ncss to inform me, whether Flodoardo is attended by the sbirri ? Andreas — No, he is alone ; near four- and-twenty hours have elapsed since he set out in pursuit of the Bravo. Gonzaga — [toContarino,withasmile of triumph] — ^I wish you joy of your thousand sequins, Signor. Contarino — [bowing respectfully] — Since your Excellency prophecies it, I can no longer doubt my success. Memmo — I begin to recover myself! Well ! well ! Let us see the end. Three-and-twenty hours had elapsed since Flodoardo had entered into his rash engagement; the four-and-twen- tieth now hastened to its completion ; and yet Flodoardo came not ! 251 CHAP. V. The clock strikes five ! The Doge became uneasy. The senator Vitalba began to tremble for his thousand sequins, and the conspirators could not restrain their spiteful laughter when Contarino gravely declared that he would gladly lose not one thousand se- quins, but twenty, if the loss of his wager through Abellino's being captured might but secure the general safety of the repubUc. — « Hark!" cried Rosabella, « the" dock strikes five !" — All listened to the chimes in the tower of St. Mark's church, and trembled as they 252 they counted the strokes. Had not Ca- milla supported her, Rosabella would have sank upon the ground. The des- tined hour was past, and still Flodoardo came not ! The venerable Andreas felt a sincere affection for the Florentine : he shud- dered as he dwelt upon the probability that Abellino's dagger had prevailed. Rosabella advanced towards her uncle as would she have- spoken to him ; but anxiety fettered her tongue, and tears forced themselves into her eyes. She Struggled for a while to conceal her emotions, but the effort was tob^ much for her. She threw herself on a sopha, wrang her hands, and prayed to the God of Mercy for help and comfort. The rest of the company either formed' groupes of whisperers, or strolled up and 253 and do\^n the apartment in evident un- easiness. They would willingly have appeared gay and unconcerned, but they found it impossible to assume even an affectation of gaiety — ^And thus elapsed another hour, and still Flodoardo came not. At that moment the evening sun broke through the clouds, and a ray of its setting glory was thrown full upon the countenance of Rosabella — She started from the sopha, extended her arms towards the radiant orb, and ex- claimed, while a smile of hope played round her lips — " God is merciful ! God will have mercy too on me /" — Contarino — Was it at five o'clock that Flodoardo engaged to produce Abellino? It is now a full hour beyond his time. The ^54 The senator Vitalba— Let him only produce him at last, and he may be a month beyond his time if he chuses. Andreas — Hark !— No ! — Silence ! si- lence ! Surely I hear footsteps approach-i ing the saloon ! The words were scarcely spoken when the folding doors were thrown open^ and Flodoardo rushed into the room^ enveloped in his mantle. His hair streamed on the air in wfld disorder ; a deep shade was thrown over his face by the drooping plumes of his barretter from which the rain was flowing; ex- treme melancholy was imprest on aH his features ; and he threw gloomy looks around him, as he bowed his head in salutation of the assembly. Every one crowded round him; every mouth was unclosed to question him ; every 9SS every eye was fixed on Ms face, as if eager to anticipate his answers. — '^ Holy Virgin !" exclaimed Mem- mo, " I am afraid that. . . . *' — — " Be silent, Signor!" interrupted Contarino sternly ; " there is nothing to be afraid of." — — " Illustrious Venetians !'* it was thus that Flodoardo at length broke si- lence, and he spoke with the command- ing tone of a hero ; " I conclude that his Highness has already made known to you the object of your being thus as- sembled. I come to put an end to your anxiety ; but first, noble Andreas, I must once more receive the assurance that Rosabella of Corfu shall become my bride, provided I deliver into your power the Bravo Abellino. Andreas 256 Andreas — [examining his counter nance with extreme anxiety] — ^Flodo-^ ardo. . . . have you succeeded ? Is Abel- lino your prisoner ? Flodoardo — If Abellino is my prison- er, shall Rosabella be my bride ? Andreas — Bring me Abellino, alive or dead, and she is yours — ^I swear it beyond the power of retracting, and swear also that her dowry shall be royal ! Flodoardo — ^Illustrious Venetians, ye have heard the Doge's oath ? All— We are your witnesses, Flodoardo — [advancing a few paces with a bold air, and speaking in a firm voice] — Well then! Abellino is in my power. ... is in yours ! AH 257 All — [in confusion, and a land of up- roar] — In ours ? — Merciful heaven !— Where is he ? — Abellino ? Andreas— Is he dead or living? flodoardo — ^He still lives* Conzaga — [hastily] — ^He lives ? Flodoardo — [bowing to the Cardinal respectfully] — ^He still lives, Signor ! Rosabella — [pressing Camilla to her bosom] Didst thou hear that, Camilla? Didst thou hear it?— The villain still lives ! Not one drop of blood has stained the innocent hand of Flodoardo. The senator Vitalba — Signor Conta- rino, I have won a thousand sequins gf you. s Coxita* 258 " Cohtarino — So it should seem, Slg- nor ! Andreas — My son, you have bound the republic to you for eVer^ arid Kre- joke that it is to Flodoardo that she is indebted for a service so essential. Vitalba— And permit me, lioble Flo- rentine, to thank you for this heroic act in the name of the senate of Venice — Our first care' shall be to seek out a re- ward proportioned to your merits. '■^^^[■- ^_.:-:/.. ■./_•■ - ,-■ ■ ...w.. Flodoardo— [^extending his artti-'td^ %krds Rosabella, with a melancholy air^ '-^There stands the only reward for which I wish. ~ Andreas-^[joyfully]-^And that l re- ward is yoUr own^— But where have-you left the blood-hound ? Conduct him hither, my son, and let me look on him once 259 once more — When last I saw him, he had the insolence to tell me — " Doge, I am your equal ; this narrow chamber now holds the two greatest men in Ve- nice/' — Now then let me see how this other great man looks in captivity. Two or three Senators — Where is he? — Bring him hither ! Several of the la3ies screamed at liear- ing this proposal — ^"^ For heaven's sake!" cried they, " keep the monster away from us ! I shall be frightened out of my senses if he comes here !" — " Noble Ladies !" said Flodoardo with a smile expressing rather sorrow than joy, " you have nothing to appre- hend. Abellino shall do you no harm ; but he needs must come hither, to claim " the Brave's Bride.'* — And he pointed to Rosabella. s 2 — " Oh ! 260 — ^' Oh! my best friend!" she an- swered, " how shall I express my thanks to you for having thus put an end to my terrors ! I shall now tremble no more at hearing Abellina named ; Rosabella shall now be called ' the Bravo's Bride' no longer !''— Falieri — Is Abellino already in this palace ? Flodoardo — He is. Vitalba — ^Then why do you not pro- duce him ? — ^Why do you trifle so long with our impatience ? Flodoardo — Be patient! It's now time that the play should begin. — Be seated, noble Andreas ! Let all the rest arrange themselves behind the Doge! — Abelli- 710* s Co?ning! At 261 At that word, both old and young, both male and female, with the rapidity of lightning flew to take shelter behind Andreas. Every heart beat anxiously ; but as to the conspirators, while expect- ing Abellino's appearance, they suffered the torments of the damned. Grave and tranquil sat the Doge in his chair, like a judge appointed to pass sentence on this King of the Banditti. The spectators stood around in various groupes, all hushed and solemn as were they waiting to receive their final judge- ment. The lovely Rosabella, with all the security of angels, whose innocence have nothing to fear, reclined her head on Camilla's shoulder, and gazed on her heroic lover with looks of adoration. The conspirators, with pallid cheeks and staring eyes, filled up the back-ground ; and a dead and awful silence prevailed s 3 through 262 through the assembly, scarcely inter- rupted by a single breath ! — ^" And now then," said Flodoardo, '^ prepare yourselves, for this terrible Abellino shall immediately appear before you ! Do not tremble ; he shall do no one harm." — With these words he turned away from the company, and advanced to- wards the folding-doors ; he paused for a few moments, and concealed his face in his cloak. — " Abellino !" cried he at length, raising his head, and extending his arm towards the door. — At that name all who heard it shuddered involuntarily, and Rosabella advanced unconsciously a few steps towards her ' lover. She trembled at the Bravo's approach, yet trembled 263 trembled more for Flodoardo than her- self. — " Abellino !" the Florentine re- peated in a loud and angry tone, threw from him his mantle and barrette, and had already laid his hand on the lock of the .door to open it, when Rosabella uttered a cry of terror !" — ' : *^^* Stay, Flodoardo !" she cried, rushing towards him, and. ... Ha ! Flo- doardo was gone, and there, in his place, stood Abellino, and shouted out— >^Ho! hor— s4 264 CHAP. VI. Apparitions, Instantly a loud cry of terror re- sounded through the apartment. Ro- sabella sank fainting at the Bravo's feet; the conspirators were almost suffocated with rage, terror, and astonishment; the ladies made signs of the cross, and began in all haste to repeat their pater- nosters ; the senators stood rooted to their places like so many statues, and the Doge doubted the information of his ears and eyes. • Calm and terrible stood the Bravo before them, in all the pomp of his strange and awful ugliness; with his Bravo*s ^65 Bravo*s habit, his girdle filled with pis- tols and poniards, his distorted yellow countenance, his black and bushy eye- brows, his lips convulsed, his right eye covered by a large patch, and his left half buried among the wrinkles of flesh which swelled around it. He gazed round him for a few moments in silence, and then approached the stupefied An- dreas. — ^^ Ho ! ho !*' he roared in a voice like thunder, " you wished to see the Bravo Abellino ?— Doge of Venice, here he stands, and is come to claim his bride!"— Andreas gazed with looks of horror on this model for demons, and at length stammered out with difficulty — " It can- not be real ! I must surely be the sport of some terrible dream !" — .—" With- 266 ,-:—^, Without there ! Guards !" ex- claimed the Cardinal Gonzaga, and would have hastened to the folding- doors ; when Abellino put his back against them, snatched a pistol from his girdle, and pointed it at the Cardinal's bosom. — " The first," cried he, " who calls for the guard, or advances one step from the place on which he stands, expires that moment — ^Fools! Do ye think I would have delivered myself up, and de- sired that* guards might beset these doors, had I feared their swords, or in- tended to escape from your power ? — No ! I amx content to be your prisoner, but not through compulsion ! I am content to be your prisoner, and it was with that intent that I came hither. No mortal should have the glory of seizing Abellino ; if justice required him to be delivered up, it was necessary that he should 267 should be delivered up by himself! — Or do ye take Abellino for an ordinary ruiBan, who passes his time in skulking from the sbirri, and who murders for the sake of despicable plunder ? No, by heaven, no ! Abellino was no such com- mon villain ! — It's true I was a Bravo ; but the motives which induced me to become one were great and striking i» Andreas — [clasping his hands toge- ther] — Almighty God ! can aU this be possible ! An awful silence again reigned through the saloon. All trembled while they listened to the voice of the terrible assassin, who strode through the chamber proud and majestic as the monarch of the infernal world. Rosabella opened her eyes ; their first look fell upon the Bravo. — « Oh! 26S •— " Oh! God of mercy!'* she ex- claimed, " he is still there ! — ^Methought too that Flodoardo. . . . No, no ; it could not be ! I was deceived by witcl^ craft!"— Abellino advanced towards her, and attempted to raise her. She shrunk from his touch with horror. — " No, Rosabella,'' said the Bravo in an altered voice, " what you saw was no illusion. Your favoured Flodoardo is no other than Abellino, the Bravo." — — " It is false!'* interrupted Rosa- bella, starting from the ground in de- spair, and throwing herself for refuge on Camilla's bosom. " Monster, thou canst not be Flodoardo ! such a fiend can never have been such a seraph ! — Flodoardo's actions were good and glo- rious as a demi-god's ! 'twas of him that I learnt 269 I learnt to love good and glorious ac- tions, and 'twas he who encouraged me to attempt them myself! His heart was pure from all mean passions, and capable of conceiving all gi'eat designs ! Never did he scruple in the cause of virtue to endure fatigue and pain : and to dry up the tears of suffering inno- cence. . . . that was Flodoardo's proudest triumph ! — Flodoardo and thou ! Wretch, whom many a bleeding, ghost has long since accused before the throne of Heaven, dare not thou to prophane the name of Flodoardo." Abellino — [proud and earnest] — Ro- sabella, wilt thou forsake me? Wilt thou retract thy promise ? Look, Rosa- bella, and be convinced : I, the Bravo, and thy Flodoardo are the same ! — He s^d, removed the patch from his eye, and passed an handkerchief over his 270 his face once or twice ; in an instant his complexion was altered, his bushy eye- brows and straight black hair disap- peared, his features were replaced in their natural symmetry, and lo ! the handsome Florentine stood before the whole assembly, drest in the habit of • the Bravo Abellino. Abellino — Mark me, Rosabella ! Se- ven times over, and seven times again, will I change my appearance,' even be- fore your eyes, and that so artfully, that study me as you will the transformation shall still deceive you — But change as I may, of one thing be assured ; / am the man whom you loved as Flodo- ardo.'* The Doge gazed and listened without being able to recover from his confu- sion ; but every now and then the words — " Dreadful! dreadful!" escaped from 271 from his lips, and he wrang his hands in agony. Abcllino approached Rosa- bella, and said in the tone of supplica- tion — " Rosabella, wilt thou break thy promise? Am' I 'no longer dear to thee 'r— Rosabella was unable to answer ; she stood hke one changed to a statue, and ISxed her motionless eyes on the Bravo. Abellino took her cold hand, and prest it to his lips. -— " Rosabella," said he, " art thou «ill mine ?" — Rosabella — Flodoardo Oh ! that I had never loved had never seen thee ! Abellino 2t2 Abellino—Rosabella^ wilt thou still be the bride of Flodoardo ? — -wilt thou be *« the Brave's bride ?" Love strug^ed with abhorrence in Rosabella^s bosom, and painful was the contest. Abellino — ^Hear me, beloved one ! , It was for thee that I hav^ discovered my- self. , . . that I have delivered myself into the hands of justice ! For thee .... Oh ! what would I not do for thee ! — Rosabella, I wait but to hear ^ one sylla- ble from your lips ! speak but a decisive " yes !" or ^' no !" and all is ended ! — Rosabella, dost thou love me still ? . ' j^ And still she answered not; but she threw upon him a look innocent and tender as ever beamed from the eye of an angel, and that look betrayed but too 273 ioo plainly that the miscreant was still master of her heart. She turned from him hastily, threw herself into Camilla's arms, and exclaimed — '*' God forgive you, man, for torturing me so cru- elly !''— The Doge had by this time recovered from his stupor : he started from his chair; threats flashed from his eyes, and his lip trembled with passion — He rushed towards Abellino ; but the seriar tors threw themselves in his passage, and held him back by force. In. the mean while the Bravo advanced to- wards him with the most insolent com- posure, and requested him to calm his agitation* " Doge of Venice," said he, " will ^yoii keep your promise ? That you gave it to me, these noble lords and ladies can testify!" — • - T Andreas 2?4 Andreas — Monster! miscreant! — ohi how artfully has this plan been laid to ensnare me ! — ^Tell me, Venetians ; to such a creditor am I obliged to discharge my fearful debt ? — Long has he been playing a deceitful, bloody part; the bravest of our citizens have fallen be- neath his dagger, and it was the price of their blood which has enabled him to act the nobleman in Venice. Then comes he to me in the disguise of a man of honour, seduces the heart of my un- fortunate Rosabella, obtains my promise by an artful trick, and now claims the maiden for his bride, in the hope that the husband of the Doge's niece will easily obtain an absolution for his crimes. Tell me, Venetians, ought I to keep my word with this miscreant ? tv -All the Senators — No! no! by no means! Abellino Abellino — [with solemnity] — If you have once pledged your word, you ought to keep it, though given to the Prince of Darkness. Oh ! fye, fye ! Abellino, how shamefully hast thou been deceived in thy reckoning! — ^I thought I had to do with men of ho- nour ! Oh ! how grossly have I been mistaken ! — [In a terrible voice] — Once again, and for the last time, I ask you, Doge of Venice, wilt thou break thy princely word ?" — Andreas — [in the tone of authority] — Give up your arms. Abellino — And you will really with- hold from me my just reward ? — Shall it be in vain that I delivered Abellino into your power ? Andreas — It was to the brave Flodo- T 2 ardo ^70 ardo that I promised Rosabella ; 1 nev^r ent eed into an engagement with the murderer Abellino — Let Flodoardo claim my niece, and she is his 5 but Abellino can have no claim to her. Again I say lay dov/n your arms. Abellino — [laughing wildly] — The murderer Abellino, say you ? Ho ! ho ! Be it your care to keep your own pro- mises, and trouble not yourself about my murders — they are my affair, and I warrant I shall find a word or two to say in defence of them when the jtidg- ment-day arrives. Gonzaga — [to the Doge] — What dreadful blasphemy ! Abellino — Oh ! good Lord Cardinal, intercede in my behalf — You know" me well ; I have always acted by you like a man 277 man of honour, that at least you cannot deny ! — Say a word in my favour then,- good Lord Cardinal ! Gonzaga — [angrily, and with impe- rious dignity] — Address not thyself to me^ miscreant ! What canst thou and I have to do together? — Venerable An- dreas, delay no longer; let the guards be called in ! Abellino — What? Is there then no hope for me ? — Does no one feel com- passion for the wretched A.bellino ? — What ? no one ! — [a pause] — All are silent ? — all I — 'Tis enough ! Then my fate is decided — Call in your guards ! Rosabella — [with a scream of agony, springing forward, and falling at the Doge's feet] — Mercy ! mercy ! — ^Pardon Iiim. . . . pardon Abellino ! T S Abellino 378 Abellino — [in rapture] — Say'st thou ^p ? — ^Ho ! ho ! then an angel prays for Abellino in his last moments ! Rosabella — [clasping the Doge's knees] — Have mercy on him, my friend ! my father ! — He is a sinner. . . . but leave him to the justice of Heaven ! -r-He is a sinner .... but oh ! Rosabella loves him still. Andreas — [pushing her away with indignation] — Away, unworthy girl ; you rave ! Abellino folded his arms, gazed with eagerness on what was passing, and tears gushed into his brilliant eyes. Rosabella caught the Doge's hand, as he turned to leave her, kist it twice, and said — " If you have no mercy on h'wi^ then have pone on 7ne I The sentence which you pass on Abellino will be mine ; 'tis for my 219 my own life that I plead as well as Abel- lino's ; Father ! dear father ! reject not my suit, but spare him! Andreas — [in an angry and decided tone] — Abellino dies ! Abellino— And can you look on with dry eyes while that innocent dove bleeds at your feet ? Go, barbarian ; you never loved Rosabella as she deserved : now is she yours no longer ! She is mine, she is AbeUino's !"— He raised her from the ground, and prest her pale lips against his own. — " Rosabella, thou art mine ; death alone parts us ! thou lov'st me as I would be loved; I am blest, what- e'er may happen, and can now set for- tune at defiance — To business then !" — T 4 He $80 He replaced Rosabella^who w^s almost fainting, on the bosom of Camilla, then advanced into the middle of the cham- ber, and addrest the assembly with an undaunted air : — " Venetians, you are determined to deliver me up to the axe of justice ! there is for me no hope of mercy ! 'Tis well ! act as you please ; but ere you sit in judgment over me^ Signors, I shall take the liberty of passing sentence upon some few oiyou \ Now mark me ! you see in me the murderer of Conari ! the murderer of Paolo Manfrone! the murderer of Lomellino ! I deny it not ! But would you know the illustrious persons who payed me for the use of my dagger .... " — With these words he put a whistle to his lips, sounded it, and instantly the doors 281 doors flew open, the guards rushed, in,' and ere ^ they had time to recollect themselvei', the chief conspirators were in custody, and disarmed. — " Guard them well !" said Abellino in a terrible voice to the sentinels ; *' you have your orders ! — Noble Venetians, look on these villians; it is to them that you are indebted for the loss of your three noblest citizens! I accuse of those murders, one, two, three, four, .... and my good Lord Cardinal there has the honour to be the fifth." — Motionless and bewildered stood the accused ; tale-telling confession spoke in every feature that the charge was true, and no one was bold enough to contradict Abellino. — " What can all this mean ?" asked the 282 the senators of each other, in the utnriost surprize and confusion. ■ — " This is all a shameful artifice,'* the Cardinal at length contrived to say j the villain, perceiving that he has no chance of escaping punishment, is wil- ling, out of mere resentment, to involve us in his destruction." — cc Contarino — [recovering himself] — In the wickedness of his life he has surpast all former miscreants, and now he is trying to surpass them in the wickedness of his death. Abellino — [with majesty] — Be silent ! — ^I know your whole plot, have seen your list of proscriptions, am well in- formed of your v/hole arrangement, and at the moment that I speak to you, the officers of justice are employed, by my orders^ 263 orders, in seizing the gentlemen with the white ribands round their arms, who this very night intended to overturn Venice —Be silent, for defence w^ere vain. '^ Andreas — [in astonishment] — Abelli- ), what is the meaning of all this ?— • no Abellino — ^Neither more nor less than that Abellino has discovered and defeated a conspiracy against the constitution of Venice and the life of its Doge ! The Bravo, in return for your kind intention of sending him to destruction in a few hours, has preserved you from it. Vitalba: — [to the accused] — Noble Venetians, you are silent under this heavy charge ? c . Abellino — They are wise, for no defence could now avail them. Their troops are already disarmed, and lodged in 284 in separate dungeons of the state-prison : visit them there, and you will learn more. You now understand probably Aat I did not order the doors of this saloon to be guarded for the purpose of seizing the terrible Bravo Abellino, but of takins: those heroes into secure cus- tody. £3 And now, Venetians, compare to- gether your conduct and mine I At the hazard of my life have I preserved the state from ruin ; disguised as a Bravo, I dared to enter the assembly of those ruthless villains whose daggers laid Venice waste ; I have endured for your sakes storm, and rain, and frost, and heat ; 1 have watched for your safety while ye were sleeping ; Venice owes to my care her constitution and your lives ; and yet are my services deserving of no reward ? — All this have I done for Rosa- bella of Corfu, and yet will you with- hold 285 hold from me my promised bride ? 1 have saved you from death, have saved the honour of your wives from the polluter's kiss, and the throats of your innocent children from the knife of the assassin. . . . Men ! men ! and yet wall you send me to the scaffold ? Look on this list ! See how many among you would have bled this night ^had it not been for Abellino, and see where the miscreants stand by whom you would have bled ! — Read you not in every feature, that they are already condemned by heaven and their ^own conscience? Does a single mouth unclose itself in exculpation ? Does a single movement of the head give the lie to my charge ? Yet the truth of what I have advanced shall be made still more evident, — He 286 He turned himself to the consph'a- tors: — ^"Mark me!" said he, *^ the first among you who acknowledges the truth, shall receive a free pardon. I swear it, /, the Bravo Abellino !" — The conspirators remained silent — Suddenly Memmo started forward, and threw himself trembling at the Doge's feet. — " Venetians!" he exclaimed, '' Abellino has tbld you true !" — — " 'Tis false ! 'tis false !" exclaimed the accused all together. — " Silence !" cried Abellino in a voice of thunder, while the indignation which flamed in every feature struck terror 287 terror Into his hearers j " silence, I say, and hear me — or rather hear the ghosts pf your victims ! — Appear ! appear !" cried this dreadful man in a tone still louder, " 'tis time !'' — Again he sounded his whistle ; the folding-doors were thrown open, and there stood the Doge's so much-lamented friends Conari, Lomcllino, and Man- frone ! — " We are betrayed !" shouted Cpn- tarino, drew out a concealed dagger, and plunged it in his bosom up to the very hilt. And npw wl\at, a scene o£ rapture .followed. Tears streamed down the silver beard of Andreas. as he ruslied into the arms of his long-lost compani- ons : tears bedev/ed the cheeks of the venerable triumvirate^ as they once more ^ ' clasped clasped the knees of their prince, their friend, their brother! These excellent men, these heroes, never had Andreas hoped to meet them again till they should meet in Heaven ; and Andreas blest Heaven for permitting him to meet them once more on earth. Those four men, who had valued each other in the first dawn oi youth ^ who had fought by each other's sides in manhood^ were now assembled in age^ and valued each other more than ever ! — ^The spectators gazed with universal interest on the scene before them, and the good old senators mingled tears of joy with those shed by the re-united companions. In the happy delirium of this moment nothing but Andreas and his friends was attended to : no one was aware that the conspi- rators and the self-murderer Contarino were removed by the guards from the saloon: no one but Camilla observed Rosabella, who threw herself sobbing on the 289 the bosom of the handsome Bravo, and repeated a thousand times — "Abellino then is not a murderer !'' — At length they began to recollect themselves — they looked round them — and the first words which broke from every lip were — " Hail, saviour of Ve- nice !" — The roof rang with the name of Abellino, and unnumbered blessings ^accompanied the name. That very Abellino, who not an hour before had been doomed to the scaffold by the whole assembly, now stood calm and dignified as a god before the adoring spectators ; and now he viewed with complacency the men whose lives he had saved, and. now his eye dwelt with rapture on the woman whose love was the reward of all his dangers. — " Abellino !'* said Andreas, ad- u vaRcing 296 vanc'mg to the Bravo^ and extending hi^ hand towards him. — "I am not Abellino," replied he smiling, while he prest the Doge's hand respectfully to his lips, " neither am I Flodoardo of Florence. I am by births a Neapolitan, and by name Rosalvo j. the death of my inveterate enemy ther Prince of Monaldeschi makes it na longer necessary to conceal who I really am.'^ u Monaldeschi?" repeated Andreas witjh aj look of anxiety. . — ^' Fear, not T continued Rosal'v^o ^ '«^Mbnalde3chi, ^'s tm% f&li^ by my hand, but fell in honouj?able combats The blood which stained his sw.ojcA flowed from my veins, and iji his^ last moments conscience asserted her empire ia his bosom. He died aot till he had written 291 written m his tablets the most positive declaration of my innocence as to the crimes with which his hatred had con- trived to blacken me ; and he also instructed me by what means I might obtain at Naples the restoration of my forfeited estates and the re-establishment of my injured honour. ITiose means have been already efficacious, and all Napks is by this time informed of the arts by which Monaldeschi procured my banishment, and of the many plots which he laid for my destruction ; plots, which made it necessary for me to drop my own character, and never to appear but in disguise. After various wanderings, chance led me to Venice ; my appearance was so much altered, that I dreaded not discovery, but I dreaded [and with reason] perishing in your streets with hunger. In this situation accident brought me acquainted with the ban- ditti, by whom Venice was then infested ; u 2 I will- 292 I willingly united myself to their society, partly with the view of purifying the republic from the presence of these wretches, and partly in the hope of dis- covering through them the more illustri- ous villains, by whom their daggers were employed. I was successful ; I delivered the banditti up to justice, and stabbed their captain in Rosabella's sight. I was 'now the only Bravo in Venice ; every scoundrel was obliged to have recourse to me : I discovered the plans of the conspirators, and now you know them also. I found that the deaths of the Doge's three friends had been determined on ; and in order to obtain full confi- dence with the confederates, it was necessary to persuade them that these men had fallen beneath my dagger. No sooner had my plan been formed, than I imparted it to Lomellino ; he, and he only was my confidant in this business. He presented me to the Doge as the son of 29Q of a deceased friend ; lie assisted me with his advice ; he furnished me with keys to those doors to the public gardens which none were permitted to pass through except Andreas and his particu- lar friends, and which frequently enabled me to elude pursuit; he showed me several private passages in the palace, by which I could penetrate unobserved even into the Doge's very bed-chamber ; when the time for his disappearance arrived, he not only readily consented to lie concealed in a retreat known only to ourselves, but was also the means of inducing Manfrone and Conari to join him in his retirement, till the fortunate issue of this day's adventure permitted me to set them once more at liberty. The banditti exist no longer ; the con- spirators are in chains ; my plans are accomplished; and now, Venetians, if you still think him deserving of it, here Stands the Bravo Abellino, and you may u 3 lead 294 lead him to the scaiBFold when you will!" — " To the scaffold ?'* exckimed at once the Doge, the senators, and the whole crowd of nobili ; and every on6 burst into enthusiastic praises o( the dauntless Neapolitan. — " Oh ! Abellino,'' exclaimed An- dreas while he wiped away a tear ; " I would gladly give my ducal bonnet to be such a Bravo as thou hast been !— * Doge,' didst thou once say to me, * thou and I are the two greatest men in Venice' — ^but oh ! how much greater is the Bravo than the Doge! — Rosabella is that jewel, than which I have nothing in the world more precious; Rosabella is dearer to me than an emperor's crown j Rosabella is thine." — — ** Abellino !" said Rosabella, and extended - ^95 extended her hand to the handsome Bravo. — « Triumph !'' cried he, " Rosa- bella is the Bravo's Bride!" — and he clasped the blushing maid to his bosom. U4 206 CHAP. vir. Conclusion, And now it would be not at all amiss to make Count Rosalvo sit down quietly between the good old Doge and his lovely iliece ; and then cause him to re- late the motive of Monaldeschi's hatred, in what manner he lost Valeria, what crimes were imputed to him, and how he escaped from the assassins sent in pur- suit of him by his enemy ; how he had long wandered from place to place, and how he had at length learnt [during his abode in Bohemia with a gang of gyp- sies] such means of disguising his fea- tures as enabled him to defy the keenest penetration to discover in the beggar Abellino 297 Abellino the once-admired Count Ro- salvo ; how in this disguise he had re- turned to Italy ; and how Lomellino, having ascertained that he was univer- sally believed at Naples to have long since perished by shipwreck, [and there- fore that neither the officers of the In- quisition nor the assassins of his enemy were likely to trouble themselves any more about him J he had ventured to resume with some slight alterations his own appearance at Venice ; how the ar- rival of Monaldeschi had obliged him to conceal himself, till an opportunity offered of presenting himself to the Prince when unattended, and of demand- ing satisfaction for his injuries ; how he had been himself wounded in several places by his antagonist, though the combat finally terminated in his favour; how he had resolved to make use, of Monaldeschi's death to terrify Andreas Ftill further, and of Parozzi's conspiracy to ^9^ to obtain Rosabella's hand of the Dogfe ; how he had trembled lest the heart of his mistress should have been only cap- tivated by the romantic appearance of the adventurer Flodoardo^ and have re- jected him vi^hen known to be the Bravo Abellino ; how he had resolved to make use of the terror inspired by the assassin to put her love to the severest trial ; and how^ had she failed in that trial, he had determined to renounce the inconstant Kfiaid for ever ; with many other hows, whys, and loherefores, which not being explained will, I doubt, leave much of this tale still involved in mystery : but before I begin Rosalvo's history I must afsk two questions — First, Do my readers like the manner in which I relate adventures ? Secondly, If my readers do like my manner of relating adventures, can't I employ 299 employ my time better than in relating them ? When these questions are answered, I may possibly resume my pen. In the mean while. Gentlemen and Ladies, good night, and pleasant dl-eams attend you ! FINIS, Printed by D. N. Shury, Bcrwick-flrcet, Soho. In the Press y and speedily will he published^ By M. G. lewis, Esq. LEGENDS OF THE NUNNERY, A ROMANCE, IN FOUR VOLUMES. GENERAL LIBRiUlY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA— BERKELEY RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 23Apr'54£i. APR 1 6 195? W m filO.CIR.FEB 16 -78 LD 21-100m-l,'54(1887sl6)476 808361 YB 5P7M UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNIA LIBRARY